Body Electric
by mannybothans
Summary: Christa and Sam return to Kansas after their hunt in Florida ("Gods and Monsters"). Shenanigans ensue! Turns out, Christa's been hexed and it has surprising effects on everyone. Rated M for smutty smut smut. Angst. Fluff. Mostly smut. Seriously this was just an excuse to write a lot of smut.
1. Back in Black

"Hey, Sammy! How'd it go?" Dean Winchester clapped his brother on the shoulder and handed him a beer. The taller brother winced outwardly and punched Dean in the arm, then took the offered beer.

"Ouch, man. I dislocated my shoulder," he replied in an exasperated tone.

"My bad," Dean said and threw his hands up. "All good though? No more vetala snatching folks in paradise?"

"For now," came a familiar, dry voice from the top of the stairs. "Mind lending a hand, Winchester?"

Dean shook his head, glaring at his little brother. "We will talk about this," he gestured towards the stairs, " later."

He passed Christa on the stairs as he jogged up to get the last bags from the car and shot her a tight-lipped grin as he checked her out. She narrowed her eyes at him and continued downward.

Christa dropped the two duffel bags on the floor and looked accusingly over at Sam, who was sipping his beer. Her eyebrow lifted in that special way she had of communicating her disdain for something. "And you, Sam? Not gonna lend a hand?" She folded her arms over her chest.

"Dislocated shoulder?" He tried.

"Stab wound!" Christa shouted back and marched over to him, yanking the beer out of his hand. "Where's my room?" She took a long swig and started down a hallway.

"Oh, this'll be real fun," Dean drawled, setting the last bags down and retreating to the living area.

Sam had grabbed her two bags with his good arm and followed her down the hall to let her choose whichever room she wanted that wasn't his or Dean's. She settled on a room a bit farther down than theirs and made a face when she opened the door. "Just what I wanted! A view of the Rockies." She turned to Sam, who was rolling his eyes, and smirked. "I'm joking. The word 'bunker' doesn't really give off resort vibes. Thanks for the hand, Sammy." She took her bags from him and dropped them on the bed. "Hey can you ask Dean what he wants to do for dinner? I'm starving. I'm going to shower, though. 25 hours in the car at once is too much." She shuddered for emphasis. The ride was long and the tension between them made it seem even longer.

"Sure. The showers are um… they're kind of communal? But since it's only us three, it shouldn't be an issue." Sam gently rotated his shoulder. It was not feeling the best after driving the last half of their trip. "Let me check your stitches, first." Christa bit her lip and nodded. She set down the beer and gingerly pulled her shirt half-off for him to inspect the stitches he'd put in her shoulder. He checked them out and nodded, not seeing any inflammation or infection to be concerned about. "Looks good. Thread should hold in the shower. Let's leave it in for a couple more days and then switch to bandages."

"Thanks, Sammy. Do you need me to wrap your shoulder?" She asked, the abrasiveness gone from her voice.

He shook his head and smiled at her, absently brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. "I'm okay. I have a sling around here, somewhere. Go shower, I'll go talk with Dean and make sure he's cool with you being here for a few days."

* * *

Christa hummed loudly in the shower. She was tempted to make use of the bathtub that looked long-neglected but it needed a really good scrubbing and she was too hungry for that.

The communal showers were around the corner from the main area of dorms. She had stolen a couple towels from the resort, not knowing when she'd have the luxury of full-threaded towels again. After wrapping herself up, she went back to her room and got dressed. Wearing a bra had seriously aggravated her shoulder wound, so she opted not to put one on and settled on an old tee from a rare concert she actually made time for in her younger years. It wasn't swampy in Kansas, but it was still hot, so she dug out a pair of her jean shorts and clean underwear and finally grabbed her worn-in cowboy boots before heading down the hall.

As she approached what the guys called the War Room, she heard Sam and Dean arguing quietly. Intrigued, she stopped behind a corner and put her boots on as she listened.

"It's only for a couple days, Dean! Come on. She just worked two cases back-to-back and there's nothing going on right now."

"This is our space, Sam. You should have at least asked me, first. Common decency, you know?"

"It's Chris, Dean," Sam groaned. "It's not like she's going to overstay her welcome – you and I both know she prefers to be alone. And we totally owe her for saving our asses in Charleston. I just figured it'd be nice to relax, just the three of us."

"Four," chimed in a strange voice. Christa blinked, taken by surprise at the third male voice. She looked behind her, confused as to where he could have come from.

"Cas. Nice of you to drop in, too. Now it's just a regular sausage party!" Dean exclaimed. Christa could imagine him throwing his hands up the way he did when he was frustrated. The sound of a chair being pulled out and then a clomp of boots carried to her ears.

She was about to turn the corner and make her presence known when the strange voice said, "Christa Edelwood, why are you eavesdropping?"

Her eyes went wide and she turned the corner, eyeing the stranger suspiciously. "Who the fuck are you? One of Dean's friends?"

"Um, well, yes, technically. I suppose we are friends." The stranger glanced down at Dean as if double-checking his statement. Dean just rolled his eyes and took a long swig of beer. He was sitting in a chair, boots up on the table. Sam had found a sling and was standing opposite Dean. "My name is Castiel, to answer your first question."

Christa's jaw dropped as she put tidbits of information from the corners of her mind together, like a jigsaw puzzle. Before she could say anything, he was in front of her and had his fingers on her forehead. She felt a stinging in her shoulder and it felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. She gasped and stepped back, lightly putting a hand on her injured shoulder. "What was that?"

"You were injured and it was going to get infected. I healed you." His eyes narrowed and he regarded her for several moments; Christa stepped back, a feeling of unease coming over her.

Christa couldn't believe the level of nonchalance in the voice of Castiel. She also couldn't believe, if she remembered correctly, that she was in the presence of an Angel. Speechless, she watched Castiel do the same to Sam. Sam sighed deeply and rotated his shoulder, then flung the sling off. "Thanks, Cas."

"So, you're Castiel? Like, _the_ Castiel," she blurted out. "An honest-to-God Angel? Semi-omniscient, sent-by-God Angel?"

Castiel eyed her suspiciously this time and nodded slowly. "Yes, but you already knew that. Why are you asking redundant questions?"

"Cas, I think she's a bit uh, overwhelmed," Dean smirked, immensely enjoying seeing Christa freak out. He checked her out again, appreciating the very short denim shorts and had a flashback to tugging them off of her; he'd spent his alone time thinking about that a few times while he had the place to himself. "Heh," he vocalized and then downed the rest of his beer. "I'm starving! Let's go eat."

Castiel shifted, looking uncomfortable, "Dean, you are not starving. I think we should talk." He glanced over at Christa, who had stepped closer to Sam and was also still staring at Castiel as if she were in a trance.

"It can wait, man. We're hungry and Sammy's been in the car for 25 hours."

This seemed to get Christa to snap out of it, as she retorted, "Uh, so has Christa!"

Dean waved his hand at her in his "I don't care" way and Christa glared at him.

"I will wait here, then, as I do not need to eat food." Castiel stated monotonously. Christa almost laughed at how robotic he sounded, but bit her lip and grinned instead.

"It was very nice to finally meet you, Castiel," Christa said as Sam placed a hand on her lower back and they headed up the stairs.

Castiel didn't respond, but Christa could feel his eyes boring into her back until she was inside the garage. She shivered, hard, and Sam withdrew his hand. "You ok?"

"Yeah, fine. Just… had a weird chill," she forced a smile up at him and then slid into the backseat of the Impala, completely at unease.

* * *

The diner Dean and Sam frequented while "home" was pretty busy, but they apparently had a booth that was always reserved for them. It was a round booth, capable of seating up to eight people and Christa had to admit she was impressed the owners would give up the possibility of money for some guys who could barely afford to feed themselves most of the time. A thought occurred to her that the Winchesters probably saved a life and it made more sense. Dean slid in and Christa slid in on the opposite side and Sam sat next to her. She was the middle of a Winchester sandwich and pushed aside the dirty thoughts that immediately popped into her head.

They waited until they ordered to broach the topic of Christa's eavesdropping. Sam was the first to ask, as usual. "So how much did you hear in the bunker?"

Christa sighed and shook her head, "Not a lot. Just seems like you guys need to sort some things out between you two. I'll be on my merry way just as soon as something comes up, so," she paused and sipped her Coke, "you know. Don't let me get in your way or whatever." She leaned back, glancing from one brother to the other as they sat in relative silence. Nobody else said anything. "Well alright then. Good talk." She pushed down the uneasy feeling, trying to ignore it.

They all finished impressive portions of food. Sam had gotten up to use the restroom and Christa could just feel Dean eyeing her in that semi-sleazy way that he'd perfected by eighteen. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and he was indeed smirking. "Can I help you, Winchester?"

Dean made a "who me?" face and shook his head. Christa's eyes narrowed as she regarded him. "I like those shorts," Dean said with a devious grin. "I liked them better on the floor, though."

Christa took a deep breath and decided not to react violently. There was no use denying she had enjoyed herself in Charleston or that she hadn't thought about it since. "I bet you did," she muttered. Then, Dean's warm hand was on her thigh, his pinky finger pointed towards her as it slid under the frayed hem of her shorts. A tingle went through her entire body, as if he'd shocked her. "Dean," she warned, her voice low.

"Mm, that sounds so much better when you scream it, sweetheart," he murmured, watching her closely.

A faint pink crept up her neck to her cheeks and she was taking deep breaths through her nose while trying not to react, despite the slow burn building between her legs. "I'm not doing this right now," she finally said. Sam rounded the corner and she hurriedly slid out of the booth and met him at the door, all smiles. Dean noticed the way Sam put his hand on her lower back as they walked outside together and could have sworn he felt a small twinge of envy. He wondered if they'd hooked up in Florida.

When they got back, Castiel pulled Dean into the library to talk. Sam sat down at the table in the War Room and immediately got on his laptop while Christa went to the kitchen for beers. She rolled her eyes dramatically and groaned when she walked in and saw Sam on his computer.

"Oh come on, Sammy! We're relaxing, remember?" She set a beer next to him and hoisted herself onto the table next to that.

"Well, I figured since Castiel was nice enough to heal us, why not see if there's anything out there?"

"Workaholic," Christa enunciated each syllable and closed his laptop.

Sam's hazel eyes flashed up to her. "Chris, I was doing something."

Christa drank from her beer and held his out to him again; her eyebrows rose as if she were daring him. He finally took it from her and had a sip. She lowered her beer and smirked at him when he looked away and sat back, his bottom lip sticking out just a bit. "I know something else you can do."

His eyes darted around the room before landing back on her, annoyance replaced with intrigue. "And what is that?" Sam pursed his lips together and made a show of letting his gaze drop down her entire body, then back up to her smirking face.

Christa bit her lip and leaned closer to him, setting her beer down on the table behind her. "You can take out these unnecessary stitches," she almost whispered, her voice somehow dripping with seduction.

Sam blinked and got up, walking out of the room. Christa laughed, confused, and leaned back again, finishing her beer. She was pleasantly surprised when Sam returned holding a pair of tiny scissors. "Take off your shirt," he ordered. Unabashedly, she pulled off the concert tee. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, but she saw Sam's eyes go wide and glance around again. "Oh, um, I didn't realize."

Her eyebrow lifted in amusement and she held the shirt in front of her bare breasts to help Sam relax a little. He visibly did and then leaned down to cut the thread out that remained. Christa watched as the thread holes closed instantly. "That is some freaky shit," she muttered. Her blue eyes went to Sam's face; first his lips, then his eyes. She leaned up to close the distance between them and her lips brushed against his.

He groaned softly and pulled away, placing a kiss on her forehead, instead. "Sorry, Chris," he whispered. "Just… not out here, ok?" Sam Winchester's signature puppy eyes convinced her to nod her head and sit back. He left the room to presumably return the scissors to their storage place. Christa looked down at her shoulder again, inspecting the faint scar that remained. A few inches of steel knife had dug its way into her flesh, but she could barely tell.

"Hey, whoa!" Dean's voice came from behind her. "I didn't know Topless Tuesday started early!"

Christa, still with her back to him, rolled her eyes and pulled her shirt back on. "You've seen 'em before, Winchester. Don't get so excited."

"Don't feel like you have to be dressed on my account," he quipped as she turned around. He met her gaze with a signature wink as he raised a beer bottle to his lips.

"Or mine," Castiel chimed in, walking into the room. "For I have seen the naked human form from the time God molded it out of clay. There is a reason He thinks you are perfect."

Christa's eyes widened as she gave a befuddled look; Dean chuckled in response and shrugged. "Anyway. Sam was just helping me get the rest of the thread out," she explained.

"Lucky Sam," Dean said, a bit gruffly. Christa's only response was to childishly stick her tongue out at him. Thankfully, Sam walked back into the room and looked around, sensing discomfort. He swore that he could never leave these two alone in the same room without nearly starting World War Three.

"So who's up for movie night?" He asked cheerfully.


	2. Thunderstruck

Sam and Dean argued over movies for several minutes. "I guess I'll make the popcorn," Christa announced to nobody in particular.

Unfamiliar with where they kept things, it took her a couple minutes to discover the pantry and subsequent food stock. Rather, the lack of it. She found a popcorn box and pulled out a packet, noticing it was stove-top only. "How old is this?" She asked herself, frowning. She was turning around when she sensed someone behind her; instinctively she threw the popcorn box.

Dean batted the box away with ease. "Hey! Ow! Jesus, you're supposed to pop this, not hit people with it."

Christa shrugged and pushed by him, "My bad. Don't sneak up on people if you don't want stuff thrown at you. Next time it could be a knife."

Dean smirked widely and followed her over to the stove, "How'd you know my kink?"

Even Christa laughed as she retrieved a pan from the hanging rack. "You're stupid," she said as she put the popping contraption in the pan and turned on the burner. After that was situated, she went to the fridge for another beer. "Need another?" She asked, feeling his eyes on her the whole time.

"Sure, I'll take one to Sammy, too." Dean watched as Christa retrieved three beers, biting his lip at how well those shorts hugged her in all the right places. He prayed Sam didn't hook up with her because he wanted her all to himself.

"Don't be a pervert, Winchester. Didn't John ever tell you it's rude to stare?" She set the beers down, facing him again. The way he was devouring her with his eyes made her uneasy and turned on all at once. A small flame switched on inside of her and her skin grew warm as she stared back as if to challenge him.

Before she could stop him, Dean had closed the distance between them and was kissing her, deeply. One hand grabbed her waist and the other buried itself in her hair as his mouth claimed hers. Christa made a surprised noise as she tensed. Alarm bells started going off in her brain, warning signs flashing that if she couldn't keep it in her pants, it had the potential to become extremely problematic. She mentally cussed John and Mary Winchester, God Rest Their Souls, for creating two of the most gorgeous men to walk the earth and felt herself melt into Dean little by little.

Behind Dean, the popcorn began to pop.

His tongue hungrily invaded her mouth and she moaned softly as he backed her against the fridge. His hand on her waist reached down and squeezed her ass. Christa swallowed a noise of want as she pushed him off of her. He stepped back and put his hands on the fridge on either side of her. His green eyes were boring into hers, the lust evident. Christa closed her eyes and instinctively wiped her mouth while she controlled her breathing. "God dammit, Dean," she breathed.

"Christa," he said in his low, gravelly voice that she now knew was reserved for arguments and sex. "I'm sorry," he continued, his voice evening out a little bit. "It's just that being near you is intoxicating. I haven't stopped thinking about the motel room. Please tell me you've thought about it, too." His eyes were more hopeful than Christa expected.

The smell of popcorn pervaded the kitchen and Christa suddenly snapped out of it, her eyes wide with panic, "Oh shit! The popcorn!" Dean moved out of her way as she rushed over to the stove top and quickly took the pan off the hot burner.

"Hey, are you guys okay?" Sam asked as he walked in to the kitchen. He swore Christa stiffened when she heard him and Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, then handed Sam a beer without a word. Sam eyed Christa as she removed the popped corn from the pan and dumped it into a bowl. Dean walked out of the kitchen with his beer, leaving Christa's on the counter. "Oookay. Do you want some help, Chris?"

Christa smiled brightly up at Sam and shook her head. "Sorry Sammy. I'll be right there. These stove-top ones are a little tricky." Sam nodded at her, his brow still furrowed in concern. "Actually, can you grab that beer for me?" She asked as she lifted the large popcorn bowl into her arm, along with a few napkins. He did so and they walked back into the living room together.

Castiel decided to stick around for whatever reason. Christa wasn't sure she should ask; every time he looked at her, it felt like he was looking right through her, like he knew everything she'd ever done and everything she will ever do. She sat on the floor, strategically close to all three men and yet far enough from them to ensure nobody suspected anything. Especially Castiel. She felt her cheeks grow hot at the thought of him knowing what she had done with both Winchesters and anyone else she ever slept with – Emily included.

"There's a seat on my lap," Dean piped up from behind her. Christa heard Sam hit Dean and shush him, all while she rolled her eyes.

It feels like a fucking comedy in here, Christa thought. She felt Castiel staring at her again and looked up, finally meeting his intense gaze with her own intensity. He stared at her a bit longer and then turned back to the movie without saying a word.

"Sam," Christa whispered, urgency in her voice. "Sam what the fuck is with that angel? He keeps… staring at me. Do you think he knows?" She hissed, looking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't near them.

Sam laughed and finished rinsing out the popcorn bowl. "Chris, I'm sure it's nothing. You're exceptionally attractive, you know that, right?" He dried his hands on a towel and then ran his hand through his hair, studying the woman next to him. "Even if he did know, he wouldn't blab about it. He's not like that."

Christa seemed to relax quite a bit and she smiled a little. "If you say so." She yawned and looked at her phone's clock – it was past midnight. "I'm beat. I'm going to bed." Her large blue eyes darted around again to ensure they were alone and she lowered her voice again, "Do I get a goodnight kiss?"

Sam couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips and spread to his eyes. He felt really bad about being shy earlier, especially because he knew he should tell Dean he was banging Christa – finally – but didn't know how to start that conversation considering his older brother had also hooked up with her. "Sure, I'll knock on your door in a few minutes." Christa's grin widened and she bid him a loud goodnight, as well as the others if they were in earshot.

* * *

Once he heard Dean walk down to the showers, Sam crept out of his room clad only in sweatpants and lightly tapped on Christa's door. She opened the door and pulled him inside, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"I feel like a teenager sneaking around," Sam said quietly, as if he were annoyed.

Christa wiggled her eyebrows at him, smiling, "I know, isn't it fun?"

"We are adults," Sam argued.

"Am I going to get a goodnight kiss or are you going to complain all night?" She put her hands on her hips and sighed.

Sam leaned in to kiss her on the lips, one hand sliding to her neck and slightly cupping her jaw. Christa leaned up on the balls of her feet and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her breasts pushed into his chest and all at once Sam felt his senses heighten. He could suddenly smell her faint perfume from earlier and her expensive shampoo as if she'd opened the bottle under his nose; he could taste her toothpaste from this morning as well as the lip gloss she'd had on hours ago; he could feel the individual muscles in her arms tighten just a bit as she held onto him and also her heartbeat against his chest. It startled him how much of her he could sense and he gently pulled away from her lips.

Christa pouted, unaware of how uneasy Sam felt. He seemed to have something on his mind. "Is that all I get?" She asked quietly.

Sam realized when he pulled away from her that he could barely smell anything about her. He could feel her arms, looser, around his shoulders, but not her heartbeat. The taste of lip gloss and toothpaste was nothing but a faint memory. Christa looked at him, worry written all over her face.

"Earth to Sam? Are you okay?" His eyes finally met hers and he stared at her as if he were looking for something. Christa slowly sank back down onto her heels, feeling anxious now. "I knew I should have made sure it was you before we left the diner," she muttered, backing up quicker towards her bags. She kept her eyes on him as she pawed blindly for her flask of holy water or a silver knife. Her hand finally landed on the flask and she yanked it out, flipping open the top and dousing him with it.

"Wait, Chris, no!" Sam sputtered as the water hit him in the face. He wiped his eyes and then saw her brandishing a knife, a look of pure anger on her face. Usually one to be cautious, he was surprised when she ran full-tilt at him. He caught her, easily, and forced her to drop the knife. She struggled in his grasp and opened her mouth to scream, but she didn't get a chance before Sam clamped a hand over her mouth. "It's me! I swear it. It's really me," he said as his jaw clenched, trying to hold her still as she struggled against him. The fear in her eyes didn't dwindle. Sighing, he let go of her and picked up the knife, touching it to his forearm. "See? It's me."

Christa glared at him and then turned around, tossing her room, looking for any hex bags or amulets. Sam waited for her to finish. When she was satisfied, she turned to him, anger back in her eyes, "You scared me, Sam! You went all Pod People."

Sam swallowed, trying to think of how to explain to her what had happened. "I don't know. It was just… when we kissed, I could sense things. Like, not normal things. It was like my senses were at their absolute peak and it totally freaked me out. I'm sorry." He looked into her eyes, conveying his sincere apology.

"That actually sounds kinda cool," Christa replied after a long pause. "Have you always…? I mean, is this the first time that's happened?"

Sam thought for a moment and then shook his head slowly. "No. Come to think of it, it's happened a lot. Ever since we first kissed back in South Carolina."

Christa thought for a moment, "Do you think it has anything to do with that dream you said you had when you were in the river?"

His hand rubbed the back of his head before shrugging. "Possibly."

Intrigued, Christa closed the distance between them again. "Would you like to try it again?" She placed a hand on his chest and bit her bottom lip.

He didn't bother vocalizing a yes. Instead, he grabbed her waist and pulled her tightly against him, then crashed his lips onto hers. It was more than a chaste goodnight kiss; Sam felt almost hungry for her. The case in Florida had been particularly difficult for him because he constantly wanted to be near her, on her, in her. The desire and hunger he felt for her was conveyed into the kiss. Leaving one hand on her hip, he grabbed a handful of her hair with his other hand and she moaned into his mouth.

Christa's entire body felt like it was on fire, now. She could almost taste his lust on his tongue and lips. Just after she moaned into his mouth, he started grinding his hips against hers. His hardness was ill-concealed in his sweatpants and she was wearing flimsy cotton shorts. She moaned into his mouth again, trying to stay fairly quiet, and slid a hand between their bodies, grasping his erection through his pants.

A low growl-like noise came from deep within Sam's chest. He was thrusting his hips into her hand, now, unable to control himself. Without breaking their kiss, he picked her up and stepped over to her bed. He sat down on the edge with her straddling his lap. She moved her hand up to his neck and she was returning his kiss with fervor. He groaned and slowly pulled away, holding her on his lap as he caught his breath. "Chris," he began, just as she grinded her warm center down onto him, "Fuck, I need you," he breathed.

Christa leaned forward and nipped his neck, then placed her lips next to his ear. "Then take me," she whispered. At the same time, she grinded again and Sam was half-sure he was going to come right then. When he didn't, he grabbed her thin cotton tank top and ripped it down the middle, shoving the pieces off her shoulders before he squeezed her breasts. Christa only gasped in surprise but she didn't stop him.

"I need to be inside you," he gasped as he clawed at her shorts. She jumped up, unwilling to let him rip another piece of clothing off her.

In one quick movement, she pushed the shorts off. At the same time, Sam stood up and ditched his pants. He took in her naked body, the heat in his lower abdomen growing steadily, and grabbed his erection. He sat back down on the bed, gently stroking himself, as Christa climbed back onto his lap. She put her hands on his shoulders and slowly lowered herself onto him. They moaned together as he filled her.


	3. Highway To Hell

Christa was absolutely floored when Sam pushed her past the point of no return just by penetration once again. The coil of heat in her core exploded and she shook violently, grasping him as waves of pleasure crashed through her. He felt her tighten and had his hand over her mouth by the time she was half-screaming his name. Sam bucked his hips fast and rough as she shook on top of him. Several thrusts later, he clenched his jaw and swallowed a groan as he held her up and came on his own stomach. They both caught their breath, coming down from their highs. Christa climbed off him and rolled onto her side, panting, as the faint traces of her orgasm still made her sex pulse.

They lay next to one another in blissful quiet for several more moments before Sam looked over at her. He brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. "I should get back to my room," he said, despite his urges to pull her onto his face and lick her until she was screaming.

Christa just nodded sleepily, unsure of what the hell had just happened. All she knew is that the sex with Sam Winchester had been some of the best hetero sex she'd ever had. She wanted more of him, but her body was shutting down quicker than she liked.

Sam sat up, used her torn shirt as a clean-up rag, then pulled on his sweatpants. He leaned down and kissed her forehead before he snuck out of her room and back into his.

* * *

Dean Winchester could not remember the last time he had wet dreams. Ever since he got back from the motel in South Carolina, he'd been having them every night. He could never see who it was, but she sounded like Christa. They made it that much more agonizing when she pulled away from him in the kitchen. He didn't know what she was worried about; Sam had walked in on them doing much worse.

He closed his eyes again and replayed the dream in his mind. In it, he was having rough, urgent sex with a woman on the kitchen counter; she was clawing at him, begging for more, and he gave it to her until they both saw stars. The sensation was gone, though, and he opened his eyes.

His phone said it was 0730. Frustrated, he kicked off his boxers and bundled his sheets up to toss in the wash yet again. He also threw in some shirts and a couple pairs of jeans that were beyond ripe. He pulled on clean underwear and sweat pants and started down the hall to the laundry area.

Christa's door was cracked open and the light was on. He tapped gently before pushing the door open more.

She was seated at the small desk, writing in what looked like a journal. Without turning around, she asked, "What is it, Dean?"

He was somewhat surprised she knew it was him and cleared his throat. "Mornin'. You uh, you got some laundry? I'm gonna do laundry."

"Actually, yes. Gimme a second." She hopped up from her chair and immediately started yanking stuff out of her duffel bag. Christa finally approached him with her arms full of dirty clothes. "If you want to show me there, I'll take care of getting these loads started," she smiled at him. Dean took a moment to regard her fully. She was being almost too nice, too amenable, too relaxed. A brief thought floated around the edges of his mind about her being relaxed as she left South Carolina, too, but disappeared before he could put it together.

"Yeah, come on." He jerked his head and started down the hallway with her only a couple steps behind.

* * *

Sam had bacon cooked and draining, toasted bread with jam, and was finishing scrambling several eggs when Christa and Dean sauntered into the kitchen. Surprisingly, she was laughing at something he'd said and Sam felt somewhat relieved. Whatever was bothering Dean yesterday seemed to be forgotten news and they were getting along, which is what was important. It might make it easier for him to talk to Dean about Christa later.

Christa grabbed a couple plates of food and took them to the table, which was set already. "Look at you, Sammy! Thanks for cooking!"

"Smells good," Dean agreed and clapped his brother on the shoulder as he retrieved a coffee mug. "Coffee, Christa?"

"Um, duh." She joined the brothers and Dean handed her a mug filled with hot, black coffee. "Cream?" She asked, blowing on the coffee. For some reason, both brothers stiffened at that question and Christa's eyebrow lifted.

"Uh, in the fridge. Middle shelf on the door." Sam finally said. He finished scraping the eggs onto a large plate and headed to the table with coffee in one hand and eggs in another. Christa took a seat across from Sam and diagonal from Dean.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, much to Christa's amusement. Dean seemed to be unable to stop shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate and Sam nibbled on toast, his eyes glued to his phone. Christa finally cleared her throat and glared at Sam. "Are you working, Samuel?" Her voice was stern so he would know she meant it.

"Uh, well," he stuttered.

"Uh, well," Christa mimicked and leaned across the table to snatch his phone away. "No work! Christ, leave something for other hunters for once. You guys don't need to save the world every fucking day."

Dean swallowed, having watched this little interaction mainly because he could see straight down her shirt. He looked away just in time to avoid her catching him and looked at Sam, his eyebrows raised. Mouth full, he said, "She makes a good point Sammy."

"Ew, Dean, chew your food," Sam scolded. "Look, I promise I won't find cases for us for the next couple days. But reading the news isn't working."

Christa gave him A Face as she scrolled through his phone. "Crypto Zoology Today, The Daily Weirdness, Omens And Such… Sam these are all forums for wackadoodles and also where we find the bulk of our cases. I'm keeping your phone until you promise not to scan the Weird Wide Web to find work."

"Fine, Chris. I promise. Okay?"

She narrowed her eyes at him skeptically but slid his phone back across the table. "Okay. What're we doing today, anyway? There must be something fun around here to do for a threesome," she said, grinning.

Dean sputtered on a mouthful of eggs at the word "threesome."

* * *

Several months ago, the brothers discovered a retro arcade a few miles from the bunker. True to the time, all games cost only a quarter or fifty cents to play. There were no flashy cabinets or racing games newer than 1996. Christa felt a wave of nostalgia hit her like a brick as she walked into the arcade. Air hockey was set-up in the corner; coin machines were by the door and another one in the middle of the room. It wasn't big, but it was perfect. She felt tears prick her eyes as memories of her dad taking her to arcades when she was really little swelled in her mind. Dean glanced over and noticed the sadness in her eyes, wondering if bringing her had been a mistake. He hadn't even remembered her telling him about her experiences as a kid until just now. Sam looked down at her, also, and his brow furrowed in concern.

"Chris. We don't have to stay if it's too much. I'm sorry, I just… I forgot," Sam said.

"No, Sammy," she said, her voice thick with holding back tears, "It's perfect. I love it." She wiped her eyes and smiled brightly.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and headed off to a Galaga cabinet, muttering something about chick-flick moments.

"Feel like getting your ass kicked in air hockey?" Christa teased Sam and skipped over to the table.

"Your arms are like ten feet long! It's not fair!" Christa exclaimed as Sam won his third game of air hockey in a row. "Best seven of ten!" She demanded.

"Why don't you let me play?" Dean said as he approached Sam. Sam was laughing and shook his head, surrendering his bumper to his brother.

"Have at it, dude." Sam retreated to a Mrs. PacMan cabinet as Dean put quarters into the table to release the puck.

"Ready, princess?" He winked at Christa as he set the puck down in front of him.

Instead of scoffing, Christa batted her eyelashes and leaned forward, giving him a great view down her shirt once again. Her breasts were cupped by a very thin bralette. She noticed him looking this time and smirked mischievously. "Always love a laundry day," she drawled, using her upper arms to squeeze her breasts together.

His green eyes darkened as thoughts of what he wanted to do to her on top of the air hockey table flooded his mind. He flicked his eyes up and licked his lower lip, smirking back at her, "Wanna make it interesting?"

Christa leaned back, regarding Dean with that skeptical gaze she often used. "How so?"

His smirk grew wider, "Loser can only wear underwear the rest of the day when we get back to the bunker."

Christa shrugged and nodded in agreement, "Get ready to have your ass beat, Winchester."

Dean shook his head once and focused on the puck as he tapped it towards her.

* * *

Sam dragged a hand down his face as Dean sat on the couch next to him, clad only in his underwear. It was a very old pair of boxer shorts with holes near the hem. "You just had to lose, didn't you?" He groaned.

Dean shot him a look and changed the channel. "It's not like I tried to lose! She's got… Her…" he gestured at his own chest, miming breasts, "She had an unfair advantage!"

Sam laughed ruefully, "I still beat her."

Dean shot him another sour look.

Christa sauntered into the living room in an oversized sweater and leggings. She handed Sam a beer, then handed Dean one. She looked around, seeming to be confused for a moment. "Where's Castiel?"

Dean sipped his beer and looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "Why? You miss him?"

Christa rolled her eyes and sat down in the oversized chair across from the couch. "Just curious, Winchester. He just comes and goes as he pleases? Doesn't even call first?"

"Call who first?"

Christa screamed and jumped out of the chair when Castiel's voice came from thin air. She barely stopped herself from throwing her beer bottle at him, and only because her ears were hearing Sam and Dean yell at Cas before she knew what her body was doing.

"C'mon, Cas! We've talked about this!" Dean was saying.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you."

Christa took several deep breaths and sat back down, her adrenaline searing through her. She took a very long drink of beer as she gave him her most intense side-eye glare.

"Why are you naked, Dean?"

Dean also took a very long drink from his beer before he answered. "Lost a bet." That statement didn't seem to warrant any more questions, so Castiel sat down.

Pinpricks of heat made the hairs on the back of Christa's neck stand up as Castiel's eyes bored into her. Frustrated, she took a deep breath and whipped around, glaring at him with all of her fury, "What?!"

Sam and Dean turned their heads towards her at the same time. Hazel and green eyes widened and went from angel to human and back again.

"Why do you keep staring at me, dude? It is so uncomfortable! You're seriously creeping me out!"

Castiel glanced to Dean and then looked at the floor, apologetically. "I didn't mean to be creepy, Christa. My apologies. I um, I," he sighed deeply, frustrated with finding the words that would most succinctly convey his thoughts. "You are radiating sexual pheromones, which is impossible for a human, and some of the strongest I've ever smelled. I suppose you were unaware of this fact. If both Sam and Dean have been awkward around you – they are most likely having uncontrollable sexual thoughts. Were I not in control of this vessel, I assure you it would be doing the same."

Christa's eyes widened in shock and her jaw dropped. A hot flush spread over her face as she processed what Mr. Roboto just said to her. And so bluntly! "Excuse me?" Was all she managed in reply.

"Did you come in contact with any suspicious characters recently?" Castiel looked genuinely curious.

A laugh tore out of her throat as she looked over at Sam and Dean. "He does know what we do for a living, right? Of course I have. What are you getting at? You think I'm, like, hexed or something?"

"It is possible, though it's more likely you are poisoned or possessed." He looked pointedly at Christa, now. "Especially since Christa Edelwood does not have an anti-possession tattoo."

"There are traps and warding sigils everywhere, Cas. It's a moot point," Dean argued. Christa couldn't help but notice his eyes flick over to her, anyway. She held his gaze for a moment and then stared down at the floor.

Castiel leaned forward even more, "You seem to give off even more pheromones at certain intervals. Are you, by chance, thinking about sex?"

Christa could have punched this angel right in his damn face. She clenched her jaw and put her head in her hands. "Oh my God, you can't be serious."

Castiel's blue eyes narrowed as he examined Christa's body language and her muffled response. "I seem to have made you even more uncomfortable. Please think seriously about who you've seen lately, where you've been, and who you've had intercourse with. I will leave you alone now." With that, he was gone. The tension in the air was so thick that Christa found it slightly hard to breathe.

She got up without a word and retreated to her dorm room.


	4. Touch Too Much

Her eyes were fixed on the plaster ceiling above her bed. She was better off away from the Winchesters, anyway, if Castiel was telling the truth. It sounded so utterly absurd that she had a hard time not believing him.

She ran the conversation she had with Sam last night through her mind again. He said his senses were out of control, she thought. She had no idea if Dean was experiencing the same thing. Part of her wanted to find out and part of her wanted to just up and leave.

She looked at the pile of clean laundry on her desk and made her decision.

* * *

"Do you think Cas was serious?" Dean asked after a long moment of silence.

Sam shrugged and shook his head, "I have no idea, Dean. I mean… it kind of makes sense. When you think about it." He averted his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, having a feeling where this was going.

"Well, like you and Christa hooking up in Charleston? What the fuck was that? She hated you, like actively-avoiding-you hated you for years. You guys work one case together, without me, for the first time in how long and then, bam. I mean…" Sam shrugged again and took a very, very long swig of beer. "If what Cas says is true, then that explains a lot."

"Or maybe she finally came around to admitting her feelings towards me," Dean scoffed. "I mean, it's me, Sammy. Besides, it's not like it was the first time."

Sam tried not to get annoyed, but it was too late. "Yeah, fine, I'll give you that you guys have had a tumultuous-at-best past and that you're a good-looking guy. But your attitude and ego take up an entire room. It's easy for people to see through your good looks and not fall head-over-heels for you. Especially someone as empathetic as Christa."

Dean scoffed again, "Look, if this is about me getting to her first, that was years ago. That night in Charleston, I wasn't even trying to make a move on her. It just… happened."

"What do you mean that night? Did you make a move on her again after Omaha?" Sam was getting angrier at the potential that his own brother was competition for Christa – his longest and closest friend-turned-lover.

Dean was sulking, now. "Christ, Sammy! Yeah, fine I made a move! We were drunk and it was stupid and she stopped it. Then we got back to work. What do you care, anyway? You stopped having a crush on her over a decade ago."

Sam shook his head slowly. "I'm sleeping with her, Dean." He got up and walked away, not giving Dean a chance to respond.

Dean watched his little brother walk away towards the dormitory. He sighed and ran a hand down his face, exasperated. "Great. Just great." He then retreated to his own room. Christa's avoidance of him made sense, now.

Sam's door was shut and so was Christa's. Dean walked past them both and went into the laundry room, to find his sheets and clothes were neatly folded and waiting for him to take back to his room. "See? She doesn't hate me," he mumbled. He took his things back to his dorm room, pulled on some jeans, and made his bed, leaving his door open. He lied down and stared up at the ceiling, feeling utterly bewildered that between Charleston and now – which was less than a week – Christa had been sleeping with Sam.

Not a minute later, he heard Christa's door shut and listened to her footsteps get closer. He sat up as she walked by his room with her bags. He thought for a moment, then got up and followed her.

She was half-way up the stairs when Dean called out, "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

Christa climbed three more steps and then stopped. Her head tilted back and she sighed. "Away. You didn't want me here to begin with and it was a mistake, anyway. R&R is not my thing."

"So you're just gonna up and leave without even saying goodbye?" Dean demanded with a hint of anger in his voice. "Wow, and just when I thought we were getting along."

"I don't want to fight, Winchester. I just want to leave so you guys aren't… I don't know. Uncontrollably horny or however Castiel put it."

"Christa, I think Sam and I can handle some extra hormones. You know us. You really don't have anything to worry about and Sammy would be pissed if I let you walk out that door. Why don't you stay the night and then we'll see what we can do in the morning about this… issue." He put on his most disarming grin and was genuinely happy when she turned around and clomped back down the stairs. She stopped about five steps up and her eyes traveled down his body.

"Why are you wearing pants? You lost the bet." She frowned.

Dean smiled at her again, "Well, if you stay, I'm sure we can work something out." He gave her that stupid wink and she came down the rest of the steps. "Let me," he said and took her duffel bag off her shoulder.

Dean led the way back to her room and noticed Sam's door was still shut. He set her bag down on the bed and she gave him a wide berth as she set her backpack down at the desk. "Thanks, Dean," she said and gave him a sincere smile.

"Sure thing. If you need anything, just, you know, shout." He rocked back on his heels and then turned and retreated back to his own dorm. He checked his phone and saw it was going on late afternoon. Surely, Sam wouldn't be asleep. Dean sat back down on his bed and then heard Sam's door shut. He looked up, watching as Sam darkened his doorway.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I just need to clear my head. I'm going out for awhile. Is Chris…?"

"She's in her room," Dean waved his hand in that direction.

Sam nodded, looked like he was going to go down that way and then changed his mind. "Okay, well, I'll be back in a little while. Keep an eye on her?"

"Yeah. Be careful," Dean called after him. He decided he might as well watch some television while there was nobody around to argue about what to watch.

* * *

Christa picked up her mom's journal and started reading at the beginning. She had no idea what Castiel was talking about with "sexual pheromones." Her mother didn't encounter anything of the sort. Christa had dabbled in magic in her early twenties, so she turned to where she had taken over writing in the journal.

About a half hour passed and Christa found nothing. No spells, no charms, no side-effects of combating vengeful spirits or doing a simple salt-and-burn beyond possession. She tapped her fingers on the desk, thinking about pulling her laptop out when she remembered they had an entire library at their disposal, here. Surely, in the thousands of years of knowledge the Men of Letters cultivated, somebody had to have come across this malady.

Dean's door was closed when she passed by, and Sam's was open but he wasn't inside. She continued on to the library.

A couple hours passed and Dean had dozed off watching TV. Sam still hadn't come back so he figured he'd go find Christa and see if she wanted to go out for food. He checked her room, first, and found it empty. The journal she was writing in this morning was on her desk. He opened it to the last page she'd marked and read the line, "Senses heightened, intense reactions, sex hormones?" Dean closed the journal and surmised she was in the library.

The fourth book lay open in front of her and she stifled a yawn. She checked her phone, seeing that she'd been at this for almost three hours. She'd neither seen nor heard from either Winchester and was mildly relieved at that. She pushed that book aside and grabbed another, scanning the table of contents and then flipping to the chapter she wanted.

She was deep in thought about the Winchesters, re-reading the same line over and over again, and chewing on her lip. Dean leaned against the doorway, fully dressed in his usual jeans, tee, and button-up. He didn't want to interrupt, so he waited for her to realize he was standing there. It only took a minute or two. A shiver went down his spine as her blue eyes met his.

"Whatcha doin?" He asked, looking at all the books on the table.

Christa shrugged, "Wasting my own time, mostly." She looked back at the books and then combed her hands through her hair and put her elbows on the table. Her posture screamed defeat. "I'm trying to see if anybody else has documented something like, like whatever it is I have. But I have no idea what I'm looking for, only what I'm not looking for."

"Can I help?" Dean asked, hoping beyond hope she'd say no because he really really hated research.

She shook her head and relief swept over Dean. "I just keep getting dead-ends. No use in bringing someone else just to reach more dead-ends twice as fast."

For once, Dean didn't know what to say. Christa looked like she was giving up and he'd never seen her so discouraged. He walked over to her and sat next to her as he placed a comforting hand on her back. "Hey, we'll figure it out, sweetheart. Besides, it could be worse. You could smell like a bacon cheeseburger and sex. Then I'd really be in trouble." He grinned as she lifted her head and looked at him through her hair.

"You're so stupid," she reiterated as a small grin tugged at her lips. "I just don't deal with difficult too well. And I want to get out of your hair, but I need to know what's happening, so..." Her blue eyes held his green ones, as if she were playing chicken to see who would blink, first. Before he knew what his hand was doing, he was gently moving her hair out of her face. Christa finally glanced down and pushed his hand away. "Dean, stop," she began.

"Stop what, Christa?" he cut her off, his voice suddenly intense and low.

It caught her off guard and Christa felt her body react to it in a surprising way. "I just mean, you know. It's this thing. You're not really attracted to me, Winchester. You're just… sitting in a cloud of pheromones."

"That is absolutely not true and you know it," he said in a quiet-but-rough voice. "I mean, it might be, but don't you remember that night in Omaha? I wanted you then, Christa. So much. And you up and left me without a word and I didn't hear from you again for years. How do you think that made me feel? I wanted you the other night in South Carolina. I want you, now." He almost growled out the last sentence and tilted her chin up in his hand. Her eyes were sparkling with tears and he understood even more.

"What?" She whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I thought you were just using me to get off. That's why I left – I knew you were going to break my heart and I couldn't stand it. I couldn't fall for you, again."

Dean shook his head slowly. "I had no idea what I'd done for you to turn me down. It burned me that you and Sammy stayed close friends while you refused to even look at me." He sighed, looking into her widening eyes, the surprise on her face almost too much. "Until last week, when I realized you'd been acting that way to protect yourself. I'm not that guy, Christa; I won't hurt you," he held her chin in his hand and leaned forward until his lips were brushing hers. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest and almost smell her hesitation.

"Where's Sam?" She whispered.

"Out," Dean responded and no sooner had he said that word then Christa's lips crashed into his. He pulled her to him and she climbed onto his lap as his tongue swirled around hers. He tasted her desire, felt her pulse speeding up, and smelled the dust from the long-neglected pages of books on her fingertips. Deep in the back of his mind the words from her journal surfaced. He was too engrossed in pulling her against him, wanting to feel her whole body against his, feeling that there could never be enough of her.

She whimpered softly into his mouth and he groaned in response, combing his fingers through her hair. He finally broke the kiss and she leaned her forehead against his; they both were breathing heavily. He slid his hands down her back to her ass and lifted his hips against her. Christa emitted a small sound of want and Dean had her on the table before he knew what he was doing.

He tossed his over shirt aside and then his hands were shoving her sweater up and yanking her leggings down, as if he wasn't sure what he wanted to do first. Christa felt like her skin was on fire where ever he touched her and she could feel her sex aching for him. If this condition was affecting her like this, she could barely imagine how the men must feel. She couldn't seem to get enough of either Winchester. Dean reached behind his head and yanked his tee shirt off, then hastily unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans to the ground. Christa tossed her sweater aside and leaned up to kiss him again. He pushed her knees open, wedging his hips against her groin, and started rolling his hips against hers, desperate to feel her. She moaned into his mouth once more and Dean felt like he was going to explode.

He gently pushed her back onto the table and slid a hand down her torso to her underwear-covered sex. He admired the delicate light pink lace and how it showed just enough but not too much. Pity, he thought as he ripped her underwear off of her. Christa yelped in surprise, which promptly turned into a moan as he slid a finger into her wetness.

"God, Christa," Dean moaned as he worked his finger slowly in and out of her. "Fuck." He pulled his hand away and shoved his boxers down before he grabbed her knees again and positioned himself at her entrance. "I need to hear you say it," he breathed, the tip of his length barely touching her.

"Dean," Christa sighed, aching for him, "Fuck me, God, please."

Dean closed his eyes as another shiver went up his spine and he thrust forward into her, ripping a moan from both of them. He leaned forward, bracing himself on the table as he pounded into her; years of pent up frustration and confusion slowly left him. Every little noise she made, every single breath she took, it all drove him wild. He'd never felt such pure pleasure as her legs wrapped around his waist; he had to hold her hips in place with his free hand as his thrusts got harder and faster.

Christa felt like she was spiraling out of control as her climax built steadily without him even touching her clit. His hot breath on her breasts and his grunts of effort made her whole body warm and tingly. She clenched her jaw trying not to come just yet, but it was too much for her. She arched her back and felt him buck into her with even more effort as her muscles clenched and spasmed around him. She screamed his name as she tumbled right off the cliff, her orgasm tearing through her.

He never wanted to stop fucking her. He sincerely thought he would just fuck her until they both died and he wouldn't be upset about it. But then her orgasm happened and he felt every little bit of it as if it were his own. Dean struggled, his hips stuttering, willed himself not to come and failed. He bucked into her until his own orgasm burst through him, hurriedly pulling out of her as he came on the inside of her thigh.

Christa had barely caught her breath when she felt Dean's fingers between her legs. Every time he touched her, it felt like an electrical jolt pulsed through her entire body. She moaned, her sex aching for more of him to make up for all those years ago.

Dean studied Christa as he gave in to an immediate urge to get her off again. He began to lightly brush his fingertips against her slit and watched her face. He bit back a groan at how wet she was and shivered when she moaned. She completely let herself go and let her guard down when he touched her, which drove his urges on.

His thumb gently stroked her clit as he stood between her knees; she made several small mewling noises and his thumb sped up. He wondered if he'd feel this orgasm like he felt her last one; a sudden need to kiss her beautiful mouth overwhelmed him. As if she'd read his mind, she sat up, leaning back on one arm as she brought his face to hers with her other hand and their lips met, full of passion.

They kissed harder as he brought her closer to her second orgasm. The closer she got, the more noises she made and the more he could taste her desire. Dean groaned as he felt a tightness grow in his belly. He flicked her clit faster, desperate to get her off. Moments later, she was clinging to him, shuddering violently again as he swallowed her screams. He felt the waves of her pleasure radiate through his own body and also shuddered – he came with her in every way except ejaculating.

"Holy shit, Christa," he mumbled, panting. He was still hard and wanted to go again, despite being unsure if he was immediately capable.

"Dean," she sighed back, her eyes opening and meeting his. The look on his face made her fall apart and she whimpered as a smaller orgasm made her tremble. He, too, shook slightly and groaned deeply, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Fuck! Christa!" He swore through a clenched jaw, gripping her thighs tightly as he rested his forehead against hers.

"Dean, we have to stop," she said, breathlessly. "We can't… I don't know what's going to happen," she explained. She gently touched the side of his face, closing her eyes again. "What if I'm hurting you?"

A gravelly chuckle escaped Dean's lips and he rubbed her thighs just to ground himself. "You're definitely not hurting me, sweetheart. This… this is the best damn sex I've ever had. I just want to do this all night, however long I can."

She tilted her head and kissed him, softly. He could hear her heartbeat again, slower than it was. He was only mildly disappointed when she placed a hand on his chest and gently nudged him away. "Let's take a breather, okay? It might be good for you to get some air and get away from me for a few minutes." Dean heard the restraint in her voice and wanted nothing more than to make her feel bliss and forget everything but how to scream his name. Again, as if she could read his mind, she gave him another nudge away from her and grabbed her shirt as she hopped off the table.

"Christa, please just don't leave again."

She finally smiled at him as she pulled her leggings back on. "I need a break, Dean. Okay? Let's go get something to eat after I clean up."


	5. TNT

Christa was concerned when they returned from the diner to find Sam still gone. A thought occurred to her that he must have taken a case; she got angry for a moment and then swallowed her anger. She had other things to worry about – namely herself – and how she was turning Dean into a nympho just by existing.

They were sitting on the couch a couple hours later watching some anime show when he pulled her into his arms. She leaned back against him, thinking maybe he just wanted to be closer to her, hopeful that the pheromones were lessened. But then he started kissing her neck, feather-light at first, then harder, and nipping her in some places. She had barely moaned out his name before one of his hands slipped into her leggings and his fingers found her clit. Christa felt that familiar ache begin between her legs and she gave in to her need for his touch within moments. He made her come with his fingers and before she could come down, he was on top of her, fucking her hard and rough, making her cry out for more.

Yet again, his body felt her orgasm from the inside out, which made him come harder than he thought he'd ever in his life. A quiet voice in the back of his mind told him he needed to rein it in before it got out of hand. He didn't pay much attention to it.

They were still tangled in each other, naked and catching their breath on the couch, when Castiel appeared. Christa yelped and Dean shifted to cover her with his body.

"Seriously, Cas?!" They yelled at the same time.

Castiel frowned slightly, "Did you lose another bet, Dean?"

"I will end you, Cas," Dean growled. "Do you mind?"

Suddenly, Castiel understood. "Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry." He turned his back and Dean gathered their clothes and helped Christa dress despite wanting to bury his face in her sex before he pulled on his pants. "I heard you get dressed, so I am going to turn around, now. Are you covered?"

"Yes, Castiel. Jesus," Christa scowled.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Sam," Castiel said unnecessarily. Christa shot him another glare and then went into the kitchen for a bottle of whisky and two glasses.

"I've been searching for something to help us with your, um, condition," Castiel announced as he looked at Christa. His eyes traveled down the length of her body as she paced the room. "You seem to be rather potent right now," he added.

"Cas? Seriously?" Dean groaned, shaking his head as he threw back another shot of whisky. His own body was thrumming with desire, still.

Castiel frowned deeply; Dean could have sworn he also looked mildly embarrassed. "I can't help what this vessel does, sometimes. It reacts to her pheromones, not me. Believe me, I have no interest in lying with her."

Christa stopped pacing and Dean swore he saw a tiny light go on above her head. "That's it, Castiel! You… you don't feel anything, aside from what the vessel does? So this only affects other humans?"

"It would seem that way," he replied. "I've only ever encountered something like this once before," his gaze went to Dean. "Dean should remember. He was very uncomfortable with the experience."

Dean gave Castiel A Look and then he nodded. "You think this is because of Cupid?"

Castiel nodded and looked back at Christa. "You seem to be staring at me, now. Am I being creepy again?"

Her eyes narrowed as she thought for a moment. "I'm just curious," she trailed off as she walked over to Castiel. She grabbed his tie and lifted him to his feet, pulling him close to her. "Get a good whiff, Angel Boy," she said quietly.

Castiel did as she said and inhaled deeply. "Yes, your pheromones are still very strong," he commented, looking confusedly at her.

Christa put her other hand on his neck and kissed him. He froze for a moment, looking even more confused, and then his body relaxed and his lips moved against hers. His tongue invaded her mouth and his hands went to her hips, gripping her tightly and pulling her against him.

Dean sat in shock, watching Christa make out with an Angel of the Lord. He grabbed her glass and downed her whisky, as well. Strangely, the scene in front of him only turned Dean on more.

Castiel seemed like he couldn't control his vessel whatsoever. He was grabbing Christa's hips and grinding his against her and a sort of dull pleasure began radiating from his groin. His confusion was slowly being overcome with desire – desire to be with her, in a Biblical way, and no matter his efforts, the urge only got stronger.

Christa was surprised that he was kissing her back. She thought he would be completely immune to whatever was happening. The hardness against her lower abdomen and his hands holding her firmly said otherwise. Concerned, because she had not in any way been attracted to Castiel before now, she felt herself grow warm for him and thought only of getting him out of his clothes. She moaned into his mouth and he moaned right back as one of his hands moved up to grab her breast.

"Okay! Whoa! That's enough." Dean announced and got up, physically pulling them apart as his head swam with lust. He grabbed Christa's elbow and held her away from Castiel as he motioned for him to sit back down and then led Christa back to the couch. He looked from one to the other, both out of breath and looking stunned. Dean cleared his throat, adjusted himself, and refilled the whisky glasses, thrusting one into Christa's still hands. She snapped out of it and downed the entire glass. Dean took a sip of his before he sat back, his body against hers from hip to knee. "So what the fuck was that?"

Neither one seemed to want to answer, especially not Castiel. Dean had never seen him blush, but he was sure Castiel's face couldn't get any redder than it was. Christa shifted uncomfortably and bit her lip, then looked at Dean. "I… I was just trying to see if, because he's an Angel and not human, if there would be any kind of reaction to it, to me. He mentioned his vessel having mild reactions, so, I just… wanted to test it out." She averted her eyes and looked into the empty glass in her hands. "My bad." Christa tried to tamp down her lust as she clenched her thighs.

"You didn't know," Castiel blurted out. "I have no romantic feelings for you, Christa Edelwood, but when we were kissing, I felt pure lust. It was warm and my vessel wanted more. I could not control this vessel's feelings once we touched." He directed his blue eyes towards Dean. "I assume you feel the same way when you touch her, based on the fact you had intercourse just before I got here."

"Hey, man. Come on." Dean sighed, exasperated; his leg moved away from hers as if she'd stung him. A heavy pause hung between the three of them before he nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I mean…" he glanced at Christa and licked his lips, "every time I get near her, it's just intoxicating." He noticed her cheeks turned pink and he took another sip of whisky before he could climb onto her. "So anyway. Back to Cupid. Think it could be him?"

Castiel looked very unsure of himself as he replied. "It's a starting point, at least."

Castiel summoned the other angel and Cupid took stock of his surroundings and then his eyes fell to Christa. "Holy Lovers," he sighed. "You are just radiating extremely powerful chemicals! It's amazing! Castiel, did you smell her?"

A warning look from Dean and Castiel simply nodded. The two of them watched as Cupid circled Christa slowly, basking in her scent. "Truly amazing," he finally said.

"Are you responsible for this?" Castiel asked bluntly. "It's making things uncomfortable and we would all be happier if you undid this."

Cupid's eyes went wide and he shook his head slowly, turning back around to face the other Angel. "Oh, no! I didn't do this at all. This is some very powerful stuff. I only intervene to give that last little nudge for humans to truly fall in love. I would never subject a human to something as powerful as this." He turned to Dean and sighed sadly, "You poor thing. I can't imagine how this is making you feel. Then again," he paused, turning to regard Christa again, "she is a very lovely woman. Should I help you two...?"

"NO!" The other three shouted in unison.

Cupid blinked, looking mildly offended before he smiled widely. "Well, then I should be off. I have a lot of work to do. Good luck!" He winked at Dean and disappeared.

Dean dragged a hand down his face. "It's late. I'm going to bed. We'll try to figure something out in the morning."

Christa nodded, wondering if she should mention Sam's absence. Dean didn't seem concerned about his little brother, yet, so Christa let it go. She'd text him when she got to her room.

* * *

Christa wandered into the kitchen rubbing her tired eyes. She was up for another couple hours retracing her steps on the cases she'd done recently. Not a single one of them gave her any pause or hint as to why she was suddenly a walking sex bomb. At one point, she crept down the hall to Dean's room and sat outside his door for a little while. Knowing what her condition did to him, she couldn't bring herself to go into his room. So, she sat there and felt the ache inside slowly eat away at her before taking care of herself.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Sam's voice said from behind her. Christa smiled and ran over to him as he set a bag down at his feet. He swept her up into his arms, lifting her off the floor as they hugged. "Miss me?" He laughed as he set her down, inhaling her scent as he did.

"Where were you?" She looked down at the bag and frowned. "Did you take a case?" Her voice raised a little in anger.

"Hey, wait a minute," Sam soothed her, kissing her forehead, "Kinda? But it was to try to help you."

"Help me? Sam I don't even know what's going on with me! You should have seen it… last night. Jesus. It got weird."

Sam lifted an eyebrow, intrigued. "Weird, how?"

Christa pushed her hair back and then decided to come clean. She started with the library and what happened when she and Dean had sex. He cut her off, "On the table?! That's where I do research," he complained. Christa gave him A Look and continued with what happened on the couch. Sam groaned and ran a hand through his hair, "Great, I'll have to replace that, too." She slapped his bicep and finished her story, telling him about Castiel and then Cupid's arrival and uselessness. He was quiet for several moments.

"Are you mad? About Dean?" She braced herself for his answer.

"Mad? No. Envious? Oh, hell yes. But I did ask him to look after you instead of taking you with me. Anyway, I uh, I did some thinking," he began and sat down at the table, patting the stool next to him. "We're all adults, here, Christa. I know you think all of this is happening because of these pheromones or whatever but I also know you and Dean have a past. I had my chance to step up and I didn't until I saw you with him that night in Charleston. I guess it finally dawned on me how much you mean to me. I want to help you out in any way I can. If that means just being a friend, then so be it. If it means I have to share you with Dean," he paused, sighing, "I mean I don't want to. Obviously, I want you to choose me. I hope you choose me."

Christa had slid her hand into his while he talked and she gently squeezed it when he was done. "I love you, Sammy. I care about you both and love each one of you in a different way. We've known each other for most of our lives and I would hate to not have you in my life." A small smile appeared on her face and she looked up at him hopefully.

"I know," he grinned back. His hazel eyes also contained his smile and he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "Hungry? I'll start breakfast if you get coffee going." He stood up, bringing her with him.

Her arms wrapped around his waist and she hugged him tightly. "Sure thing, Sam." She slowly let him go and looked up at him with her deep blue eyes.

Sam leaned down and kissed her lips, not caring one bit if Dean were to walk in on them. He felt Christa smile and he pulled her to him, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She sighed and he waited for his senses to go into overdrive. He was a bit disappointed when they didn't, but also thrilled that he had found the "cure." He would share it with both Christa and Dean after breakfast. At the moment, he just wanted to enjoy kissing her without a boiling urge to rip her clothes off.

Christa sensed something was different after a few moments of kissing. It wasn't urgent or rushed, rather he was kissing her slowly. The usual knot of heat in her abdomen was still there but the ache was slower to build. She kissed him back, hoping more would come later.

Dean turned the corner and cleared his throat loudly when he saw Sam and Christa making out by the table. "Gross, Sammy! Come on!"

The two pulled apart and Sam grinned widely, showing off his dimples. "Let's eat breakfast. Then I'll tell you guys where I was all night."


	6. Ride On

Again, the three of them ate in relative silence. This time, it was Christa picking at her toast; she was full of nervous energy and wanted Sam to share what he'd done to dampen the effects of her condition. She could feel Dean's gaze on her every few minutes and his proximity alone was turning her on. After however long of her unknowingly driving them – and others – insane with pheromones, she wasn't sure she would like what Sam found.

When they finished eating, Sam began explaining to them that he had looked into it by searching some forums about love spells and similar topics. He had found a supposed expert in potions and chemicals in a small town just west of Ogallala; her name was Maggie. When he explained Christa's condition, Maggie knew exactly what he was referring to. It was extremely rare in humans to exhibit actual sex pheromones, Sam learned, because it was a direct result of coming into contact with a potion that would alter normal pheromones into sexual ones.

"What does she mean by 'contact,' because I haven't been anywhere near an occult shop or witch in weeks. I think I would have noticed this happening before last week," Christa mentioned.

"She said it could have been ingested. In fact, the strongest potions are ingested ones and they also last the longest."

Dean made his "well that explains it" face. "So how long does she have?" His eyes darted over to her before landing on his brother again.

Sam shrugged, "That's where we came to an impasse. Without retracing steps for weeks, or knowing off-hand what kind of potion it was, we just have to wait it out." He glanced at Christa, the question barely formed on his lips.

"I have no idea, Sam. I didn't purposely ingest something like that, you guys should know better," she rolled her eyes. "I must have been given it somewhere." She sighed. "So, wait a minute. Just before breakfast, when we were kissing, it was different."

Sam nodded; it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "Exactly. Maggie gave me a counter-potion to take until yours is out of your system. She said that these pheromones could be especially dangerous, since they 'feed' on the sex drive of the host and its paramours. This anti-dote alleviates pressure on all parties by creating a sort of pheromone blocker for whomever the host comes in contact with. With it taken regularly, consent can be freely given by all parties instead of overruled by this, this Super Lust."

"And you're absolutely sure it will clear her system? It won't just stay forever?" Dean asked, looking mildly disappointed. Christa shot him A Look and kicked his shin under the table. "Ow! What? C'mon, sweetheart, that was mind-blowingly great sex." He smirked at her, enjoying watching her face flush. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

Christa threw a corner of her toast at him.

Now it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. "Yes, Dean, it's amazing sex. But we don't know what kind of side-effects this will have on us, specifically. Maggie mentioned all kinds of things, including impotency, as a result of potions that create and enhance these feeding sex pheromones. Generally, they're used as a sort of revenge on someone or they're used to convince someone to sleep with the person. Whoever slipped you this, Chris, they had it in for you."

"So, what now?" Christa asked after a long moment's pause. "We have no idea who slipped me this, or how much, or even exactly what it was. So do we just wait it out?"

"Dean, you should take the counter-potion, too, just to be on the safe side." Sam pulled a small vial out of his pocket and handed it across the table. "No more than a single drop under the tongue every 24 hours. If you miss a dose, don't double-up on the next. Just try to keep it in your pants until you remember to take it again so this doesn't have a chance to feed on your desire."

Dean frowned and opened the vial. "Well, sayonara awesome sex." He sighed and squeezed the dropper until a single drop fell under his tongue.

"And me? I mean, I didn't feel as intense, either. So obviously this has some kind of dampening effect on me, too."

Sam nodded. "It should, at least while we're in contact with you. Maggie wasn't sure what the side-effects of not having our lust to feed on would do, but I would expect some side-effects. As long as Dean and I take this anti-dote, though, we should be okay."

Dean suddenly laughed, "Man, I hope there's enough for Cas in here, too."

Christa sank down into her chair and put her face in her hands. "Shut the fuck up, Dean."

* * *

After an incident-free morning, Christa proceeded with caution but she wanted to know just how well the counter-potion worked. In the living room, Christa sat on Sam's lap despite other furniture being available and he just grinned at her, kissed her on the cheek, and wrapped his arms around her. She noted only a slight tingle and uptick in the temperature of her skin. He admitted enjoying her on his lap but that he felt no sudden or uncontrollable urge to be inside of her at that moment.

Later in the kitchen, she bent over in front of Dean, taunting him. He grunted and outwardly enjoyed the view, but admitted no uncontrollable urges surged through him. It didn't stop him from putting his arms on either side of her as she stood at the counter. It didn't stop him from pushing his hips into her ass and kissing the back of her neck, either. "Teasing ain't nice," he growled softly into her ear.

Christa got her usual goose bumps and felt that familiar ache surface. She turned around and kissed him, slowly, passionately, focusing on just his lips and tongue for the first time since they were eighteen. Dean was very willing to reciprocate and Christa was pleasantly surprised he was still interested in her, like he'd said. He pulled away before things got too heated, reminded her which room was his, and left the kitchen.

It appeared the counter-potion was certainly working to some extent.

That evening, they were all three curled up on the couch together watching a suspense-thriller. Christa tried to focus on the movie but she was increasingly more uncomfortable. Getting up to walk around didn't help, neither did a small workout of jumping jacks and push-ups outside the living room. Thinking maybe she was just hungry, she grabbed a snack and still felt unsatisfied. Frustrated, she took a couple shots of whisky hoping something would calm her down. As she sat down, the tightness of her shorts became very apparent and she gasped softly when the pressure between her legs caused a surge of tingles through her body.

Dean glanced her direction, "You okay, sweetheart?"

Christa swallowed, hard, the warmth in her belly coming back with a vengeance. "Yeah, I'm fine." She made it a point to turn her attention fully back to the movie; on the inside, she was screaming. After waiting a couple moments for the feeling to go away, she shifted and her shorts put even more pressure on her. Christa trembled and then got up and went to her room, slamming the door.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and then Sam got up and said he'd check on her before his older brother sprang into action. Dean paused the movie, leaning back and distracting himself trying to catch popcorn in his mouth.

"Chris? Can I come in?" Sam asked through her door. He didn't think she had locked it but he didn't want to invade her privacy. He heard a strangled cry of frustration from within and waited a few more moments before knocking again. "Christa? I'm coming in."

He slowly opened the door and heard soft crying, then, "No! Sam, stay away. It's so bad. I can't," she moaned softly through her tears, "Oh God, I can't take it!"

She was curled up on her bed, clutching a pillow against her tightly and crying into it as her other hand rubbed herself. "Whoa, Chris, what's wrong? Tell me what's happening. Let me help," Sam sat down on her bed and refrained from touching her just yet. He watched her, concerned, hoping that the anti-dote would do its job.

"I don't know what's happening," she cried. "I'm so… oh my God, it's like I'm on fire," she gasped, shutting her eyes so she wouldn't see his handsome face staring at her with pity.

Cautiously, Sam put his hand on her back. Christa tensed and whimpered, her hips rocking as her hand moved over her sex. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but figured it had something to do with the counter-potion and her pheromones not having anything to 'feed' on. "Hold on, Chris. I'm going to call Maggie, okay? She might be able to help." He got up and got his phone, placing the call immediately.

"We took the correct dosage, like you said, and she's… she's hysterical. What can I do?"

There was a long pause as Maggie weighed her words carefully. "It sounds like she's going through withdrawal. Whoever made this potion really knew what they were doing. Since her pheromones don't have your lust to feed off, they are making the host feel the most intensely agonizing desire. Even the tiniest pressure can set her off. She needs stimulation, Sam, but not too much. Whether or not you assist her with that is your call. How is the counter-potion working?"

"It's fine, no Super Lust on my end. Dean seems relatively normal, as well. It's really just her I'm concerned about."

"Mm. Then I would make sure she's taken care of."

"Got it. Thanks Maggie."

"Let me know how she is tomorrow. You might have to bring her to me."

"Yep, thanks." Sam hung up and stood in his room, weighing his options. Dean poked his head in and they held a silent conversation before a soft cry from down the hall made him run his hand through his hair. Concern creased Dean's brow and Sam took off back towards Christa's room before Dean had the chance to step in.

Christa was curled up on her bed, still, but she had discarded her shorts and her fingers were shoved into her underwear as she desperately tried to get herself off. Sam had to admit it was kind of hot but the knowledge that she wasn't doing it to be sexy was at the forefront of his mind.

"Chris," he said, closing the door behind him. She didn't answer; her eyes were closed and her brow was furrowed as she fingered herself frantically. "Chris!" He said louder, relieved when her eyes opened and focused on him.

"Sam, please, it hurts." She sighed and her free hand grasped her breast under her shirt, eliciting another gasp from her.

"Chris, I can help you. You just have to let me help," Sam explained. Her noises were turning him on, as was the fact she was making eye contact with him without stopping touching herself. He cleared his throat and glanced away quickly. "I need your permission."

"I won't… hurt you?" Christa breathed out, having a hard time forming complete sentences.

"No, I'm still immune," Sam said, his eyes raking down her body and back up. He felt himself start to get hard. "I can help you without getting hurt," he repeated, his voice getting lower as his desire for her grew.

Shakily, she forced herself to pull her hand away and nodded at him eagerly, "Yes, please, Sam, please make it stop."

He was undressed in a matter of moments and climbed on to her bed, discarding the rest of her clothes – in one piece – within seconds. "Tell me what you need," he whispered as he leaned down to kiss her jaw and neck.

Christa purred and took his hands, placing them on her breasts for him to squeeze. "Just touch me, Sam. Anywhere."

He placed his knee between her legs as he ran his hands all over her torso, alternating between light and hard pressure. His lips brushed against hers and then he kissed her, softly. Confident the antidote was still working, he began kissing her deeper, conveying his desire to help her and his love for her through his lips and tongue. She slowly began to calm down, though she was still trembling as she raked her hands through his hair and grabbed his shoulders and biceps. Sam pulled away from her mouth, slowly, and whispered, "Is this okay?"

"More, Sam," she urged, pressing her sex against his thigh. "Please give me more."

He shifted and positioned himself at her entrance, then slowly slid into her. Christa's eyes rolled back and she arched her back, moaning loudly as he pushed deeper. Sam nipped at her chin and then peppered her face with soft kisses, tasting her drying tears on his lips. His hips moved slowly, letting her feel the entirety of him, taking his time with her now that the urgency was soothed.

Christa let Sam take complete control. She moaned softly, rolling her hips up to meet his. Steadily, Sam sped up to a moderate pace, reacting to her noises and her body, trying to give her what she needed. It seemed that only a couple of minutes had passed when he felt her begin to tense up and he had to thrust into her with more effort. He covered her mouth with his as she came, swallowing her moans of ecstasy, holding still as she shook for what seemed like several minutes.

When she finally regained control of herself, Sam leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. "Thank you," she sighed.

Sam nodded and started to lift himself off of her when her arms encircled him. He looked into her eyes and saw her question without her needing to ask and he shook his head in response. She pulled his hips back down to hers and he got the message.

* * *

"Everything okay?" Dean asked as Sam settled himself back on the couch.

"Yeah, um, listen. We need to talk about Christa." Dean looked at his brother with worry on his face. Sam took a deep breath and told Dean what had happened, what Maggie had said, and what he did. "She's asleep, now," he finished. "But we need to keep an eye on her tomorrow."

"So, what, we just take turns keeping her from going nuts?" Dean asked, trying to process the entire fucked up situation, a little more jealous that Sam had slept with her again.

"Yeah, basically. Maggie said if she gets worse,"

"Yeah, right, bring her to Ogallala." Dean finished his brother's sentence and thought about it. He could either let Sam handle her, by himself, or he could push aside the weirdness factor and lend a hand – as it were. "So when you guys, uh," he jerked his head, "you didn't lose control or get extra orgasms or anything?"

Sam shook his head, "Nope. Nothing out of the ordinary on my end. It's extremely important that we make sure we're taking the antidote Maggie gave me. If Christa has sex, or gets off in any capacity with one of us, without the antidote in our systems? It could make things much worse for her in terms of withdrawal. Dean. Are you listening to me?"

Dean sighed and nodded; he was going to miss feeling her explode into pieces.


	7. Shoot to Thrill

Christa shuffled to Sam as he flipped some eggs and waited until he turned to her before she wrapped her arms around him. She pushed her forehead into his shoulder and sighed as he hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.

"Morning, Chris. Did you sleep okay?"

She nodded, mumbled something, and then let go of him. He placed another kiss on the crown of her head and handed her a mug for coffee.

Dean came in shortly after, stretching and yawning. It was the first time he'd woken up without messy sheets in several days and he was pretty okay with it. "Hey, Sunshine," he made a beeline for Christa, who was by the coffee pot. "Feeling better?" He asked brightly as he poured himself a mug. She nodded and refused to look directly into his eyes, but she forced a small smile before she went to sit at the table.

Sam brought the plates over and set one in front of each person. He wanted to kiss Christa again but she looked shaken and he didn't want to overdo it. He sat down and napkinned his lap, sneaking a glance at her as he cut into his fried eggs. Her eyes were puffy and tired-looking from crying, but she looked fine, otherwise.

As soon as they finished, Sam brought out the vial and put the dropper under his tongue. He passed it to Dean and watched him reluctantly do the same. Christa watched Dean as if she were a dormouse. Sam didn't think he'd ever seen her so withdrawn, except maybe after her mother got killed.

Christa tried lifting weights to subdue the growing heat inside of her. It worked, somewhat, but she couldn't lift weights all day. She showered as quickly as possible afterwards and put on a knee-length skirt without underwear to avoid unnecessary stimulation. Sam had warned her that the withdrawal could get worse if she pleasured herself, but that he wasn't sure.

It was just after noon when she started getting really restless. The guys were each on their laptops, discussing possible cases in the area that were a one-man job. After several minutes of discussion and a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors, Sam agreed to go check out a supposed haunting a couple hours away. Christa started pacing the room as Sam hashed out the rest of the details. The brothers wouldn't let her go on a hunt in the condition she was in, which irked her even more. She followed him to his room when he went to grab his go-bag and stood in the doorway, shivering, despite being in long sleeves.

"I'll only be gone a few hours at most," Sam was reassuring her for the fourth time. Her bottom lip stuck out and her eyes watered as if she were about to burst into tears at any given moment. He strode over to her and took her into his arms, petting her hair and shushing her quietly.

"Sammy, please don't leave me here. I think I'll die if I have to endure that pain again," Christa pleaded. She was trying to stay away from Dean, despite knowing his feelings for her. She'd made her choice and that choice was Sam.

Sam clenched his jaw and hugged her tighter, kissing her head. "Dean is going to take care of you today. I promise. Whatever you need, he's here for you. Chris, I will be back tonight. I swear." He felt her nod and heard a small sniffle as she pulled away from him.

Her face was trying to convey confidence through a smile, but Sam saw right through it and into the panic and worry in her eyes. "Okay, Sam. See you tonight. Be safe."

* * *

"C'mon, kiddo, let's go shoot some guns."

Christa was curled up on the couch with her knees tucked under her chin, staring at the TV. Dean wouldn't go so far as to say she was watching it, based on the fact she had yet to react to a single thing. He was smiling kindly down at her, holding his hand out for her to take. She had been quiet and avoiding him most of the day and he was worried she was going to just leave again.

"I'm the same age as you, nerd," she muttered, finally looking at his hand before she looked at his face.

Dean's face broke out into a much wider grin, "It speaks! It lives! C'mon. Let's go get rid of some of that excess energy."

She couldn't help but smile back at him and she grabbed his hand, pulling herself off the couch. The warmth of his hand sent a jolt through her arm but she restrained herself and let go of him as soon as she was standing. Dean went to drape his arm over her shoulder but she shrugged away, shaking her head. He nodded and stepped back, leading her to the range.

She picked a .9mm semi-automatic handgun. He picked the .40 Caliber and queued up the targets while she put on eye and ear protection. Not wanting to distract her, he stood a few spaces away and they began firing once the targets were in place.

A gun in her hand felt nice and gave her something else to think about. Having the proper stance also helped her focus but she could not deny that the heat inside of her was getting worse. The smell of gunpowder filled her nose, mostly blocking out Dean's scent. Her hands began to tremble and her aim became sloppier on her second magazine.

Christa emptied the clip and put her gun down and took several deep breaths as she fanned herself. It didn't help; she felt beads of sweat start to form on her forehead. Continuing to breathe deeply, she reloaded her gun and steadied her hands as much as she could. Sam promised he'd be back and Christa would wait. She squeezed the trigger repeatedly, firing off several consecutive shots as she held back a scream. It got progressively harder to focus and she bit her lip, remembering what Sam said about asking Dean to help her. She emptied the chamber, removed the magazine, and set the gun down, feeling that ache grow into a deep-seated pain. She leaned against the window and squeezed her thighs together, whimpering at the friction.

When Dean stopped to reload, she took off her protective gear with shaking hands and went over to him. He noticed she wasn't firing anymore and put down the .40 Caliber to see if she was okay. He was taking off his ear protection when she tapped him on the shoulder. The first thing he noticed was the pain in her eyes. As he took off his eyewear, he noticed her trembling. She looked the very model of someone in withdrawal from a hard drug; her skin was pale and she had a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

"You don't look so hot," he said as he instinctively put the back of his hand against her forehead.

Her eyes closed and she leaned into his touch before she took his hand and put it on her breast. Dean swallowed – Sam had warned him about this but he still felt weird about it. She wasn't in her right mind and he didn't want to take advantage of her. It was either give her what she needed or lock her in her room to suffer through it, according to Sam. Dean didn't know if he could live with himself if he locked her up; what if she hurt herself? He made a decision and pulled her into him, wrapping his arm around her waist and gently squeezing her breast. She moaned so softly and looked like she might collapse, so Dean tightened his arm around her.

"Winchester…" she breathed, tilting her lips up to his.

"Hey, sweetheart, I've got you," Dean whispered back, then gently kissed her. He knew he wasn't going to feel his senses heightened like before but was still disappointed when it didn't happen. Christa seemed to melt into him, her mouth passively accepting his as she relinquished control of her body to him. It was still unsettling to Dean, as he was unsure if she really wanted him or just wanted something. He pulled away from her lips and brought his free hand up to her neck; Christa inhaled sharply when he touched her bare skin. "Christa, I need to know if you want me."

Her blue eyes opened and Dean wasn't surprised that her pupils were incredibly dilated. "What are you talking about, Dean? Just fuck me."

He swallowed thickly, knowing if he wasn't on this damn antidote that he'd have already bent her over the table behind her. "Is that what you want?" His voice lowered into that gruffness and Christa shivered.

"Yes," she sighed, pushing her hips into his and kissing his jaw. "God, I want you inside me."

Dean looked around quickly, trying to find somewhere they could be comfortable and the aforementioned table was the only useable spot. He began undressing from the waist-down as he kissed her again, slowly backing her up to the table and leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. Christa lifted her skirt before she hopped onto the table and Dean positioned himself between her thighs, feeling his hardness throb as he found out she wasn't wearing underwear.

Christa moaned loudly; the heat in her core was absolutely agonizing at this point. Dean slid a hand up her thigh under her skirt and gently pushed a finger into her folds. He groaned feeling how wet she was and slid a finger into her. Her head fell back as she cried out for more and he slid another finger into her as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Groaning softly, he put his free hand on her lower back and pulled her to the edge of the table.

"Oh, God, please," she breathed as she tilted her head forward again. Dean saw tears streaming down her face and felt a knot of worry in his stomach.

"Are you sure?" He asked, now wiping a tear off her cheek with his thumb.

"I can't stand it anymore, I need you," Christa said as she started full-on crying. Dean's heart hurt and he moved his hand from her sex and pushed his hard length into her. She started crying even harder and clung to him desperately. "Don't stop!"

Dean held her as he pumped in and out of her at a steady pace. Her moans got louder and he covered her mouth with his. Within minutes she was shaking, her head thrown back, crying out in ecstasy as her muscles clenched around him. Breathless, she begged him to come for her and he resumed his thrusts as she nipped at his neck and balled her fists in his shirt.

It took awhile, because Dean often stopped or slowed himself when he got close to the edge. He wanted her to know that he wasn't doing this for himself. During those moments, he admired her body and played with her breasts and clit, sending her into a mind-reeling orgasm a couple times. He came after she climaxed the third time, pulling out and spilling his seed on her inner thigh. This alone made Christa tremble and moan, her voice hoarse from screaming. Dean had to admit that while his orgasm wasn't heightened beyond belief, it still felt really good to be with her.

He carried her back to her dorm room after he pulled his pants back on. As he gently turned to fit her through the doorway, his mind flashed back to him stumbling into the motel room with her in his arms. He swore she was asleep, but she grinned and her eyes opened as he set her down gently on her bed. "You didn't bruise my knee this time, Winchester," she commented.

Dean smirked down at her and brushed her hair out of her face. He gently took her skirt off and put clean underwear on her after wiping up the rest of his mess. As he tucked her in, he kissed her forehead. "I'll come get you for dinner, sweetheart."

She nodded sleepily and he left her room, leaving the door cracked in case she woke up in a panic.

* * *

Dean felt bad waking her up, so he went out and grabbed some fast food to bring back to the bunker. She was still out when he went to check on her but he didn't want her food to get cold. He gently woke her up and smiled down at her as she opened her eyes.

"How long have I been out?" She asked, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

"A few hours. You needed the rest."

"Is Sam back?"

Dean suppressed his envy, determined to enjoy her while he could. "No, he's still out. I got us burgers and shakes. Something to refuel."

"Is mine strawberry?" Christa asked while stretching.

"Of course it is," Dean smirked back. "Like I could ever forget your obsession with strawberry milk shakes."

"Shut it, Winchester," Christa laughed as she sat up in bed.

"C'mon. Food's waiting in the kitchen." Dean stood up and went ahead of her.

Moments after he sat down, her heard her feet pattering down the hall and turned his green eyes in her direction when she walked in. He swallowed his mouthful of burger while he looked her over; she was only wearing a large shirt and underwear. She sat down across from him and he pushed her burger and shake towards her, smiling as he took another huge bite.

"You eat like a horse, you know that?" Christa teased before she started eating. Dean just smirked at her around a mouthful of food.

They ate together, neither one saying much. Dean wanted to ask her how she felt, but she looked just fine. Maybe it was finally starting to wear off.


	8. You Shook Me All Night Long

They went back to the couch after dinner and Dean let Christa pick the movie. He rolled his eyes when he realized she picked one of Sam's foreign-language films – something about a French bicyclist. Despite his outward annoyance, he actually enjoyed the movie. After several minutes, Christa scooted closer to him and pulled his arm around her shoulders, then draped a blanket over their laps. Dean relaxed, glad she seemed to feel better. He kissed the side of her head and settled in.

Christa willed herself to focus on the movie – it was one of her favorites. She succeeded for the first half of it, and then the warmth of Dean's arm around her shoulders, his hip against hers, the smell of him and sound of his relaxed breathing started seeping into her. She honestly felt like there was a monster inside of her, clawing to get out. Instead of reacting immediately, she pulled her knees up and squeezed her thighs together, trying to contain the beast.

Dean noticed her shift next to him but he didn't move. Her hand disappeared under the blanket but he kept his eyes fixed on the movie. A moment later, Christa exhaled sharply and he glanced over at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her hand was moving under the blanket between her legs. He was immediately turned on and only slightly bothered by that fact. He fixed his eyes on the movie again, determined to let her make the first move if she needed him.

Christa's fingers slipped into her underwear and she began rubbing her clit despite Sam's warning, leaning into Dean little by little. He didn't move a muscle or lay a hand on her, just watched her in his periphery. It was weirdly turning her on even more, knowing he wouldn't do anything unless she asked him to. She closed her eyes and leaned into him more, her free hand gripping his upper thigh under the blanket as she pleasured herself. It didn't take long – just a couple minutes and Christa was moaning and panting as she came. Her other hand slid over to Dean's crotch and she felt how hard he was.

Dean swallowed, staying absolutely still as she came and as she groped him. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her to tell him what to do.

A smile curled her lips up and she turned her body towards Dean as her sex pulsed. She sat on her knees next to him and turned his chin to her. His eyes couldn't hide his desire as he looked down her body and back up. "Did you like that, Dean?" She whispered, leaning in to brush her lips against his.

He nodded slowly. "That was really hot, Christa," he replied.

She leaned back a little and brushed his lips with the fingers that had been in her underwear. "Do you like how I smell?"

Dean bit back a groan; she was teasing him. He nodded again, staring into her eyes. "And I love how you taste."

Christa purred out a small moan and gently pushed her fingertips into his mouth. His tongue licked them clean and he lightly sucked on them for good measure, watching her face the whole time. Her lips were parted and her eyes were locked on his mouth. "What else do you like, Dean?" She asked, barely whispering now, pulling her fingers away from him.

He smirked at her as his arm that had been around her shoulders now wrapped around her; his hand started tracing patterns on her lower back ever so lightly. "Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just tell me what you need," he replied.

Christa leaned in and kissed his lips softly as her hand went down to his crotch again. "You know what I need, Winchester," she breathed.

That was all it took; Dean pulled her underwear off and gently laid her back. He pushed her shirt up and peppered her stomach in kisses as he worked his way down to her sex. Christa's hips rolled up to meet him and he licked her slit slowly, staring up at her the whole time.

"Oh my God," Christa moaned, grabbing the back of his head. She hissed through her teeth when he held her hips still, his tongue licking, swirling, and prodding at her wet folds. Glad they were alone, Dean deliberately kept his ministrations slow and lazy, loving how loudly she was urging him on. He finally stopped teasing her and licked her clit, using the very tip of his tongue to trace out a crude alphabet over her sensitive nub. He got to the letter "S" when an orgasm ripped through her body; her toes curled, her fists balled, and she screamed his name and several expletives as her body shook.

Dean sat up and wiped his mouth, not sure he'd ever get tired of hearing her scream his name in pleasure. He watched her as she caught her breath and slowly came down, figuring that would hold her for the night.

Which is why he was pleasantly surprised when she sat up and shoved him backwards to take off his pants. "Christa, you don't have to," he said as she straddled his legs

"Shut the fuck up, Dean," she replied as she pulled his boxers down. His reply was forgotten as she bent down and licked his length from base to tip, agonizingly slowly. Dean's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt her mouth take him in and he lost all interest in arguing. She hummed as she sucked on him and Dean felt himself start to fall towards that inevitable ending. Christa sensed he wasn't going to hold back and pulled away, licking her lips. The growl that came from his throat sent a shiver down her spine.

"Fuck, Christa," he sighed, his member throbbing.

"Yes, Dean? What is it?" A mischievous smirk appeared on her face as she nipped at the muscles that formed the V on his hips.

"Nothing. Just… whatever you need to do," he almost winced as she ghosted her hand over his erection. He was clutching the armrest behind his head with white knuckles.

"Do you want me to help you, Dean?" She asked coyly, turning the tables on him. "I need to hear you say it," she echoed his words back at him.

He groaned as she licked the tip of his length and clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body wound tightly. "Yes," he hissed, "God, let me fuck you," Dean begged.

Christa closed her eyes and sighed, feeling the heat between her legs surge through her. It was physically painful to not slam down onto his length, but she scooted up and leaned down over him, kissing his lips softly. "Don't hold back, Dean," she murmured. They moaned together as she smoothly slid down onto his throbbing hardness.

He gripped her hips, holding her still as he bucked wildly into her, driving his length into her warmth. His jaw was clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the coil of pressure quickly build to the point of no return. Christa was urging him to come; she had already come again on top of him. With effort, Dean lifted her hips off of him and started to come.

Christa shoved his hands away and slid back down as yet another orgasm had her clenching around him. Dean bucked into her as he filled her, groaning almost as loud as her. She collapsed onto him after several moments. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her sweaty forehead press into his neck and listened to her pant as he caught his own breath.

They lay there for several more minutes, the end credits of the forgotten movie rolling. Dean gently moved his hips and disengaged from her without moving her off of him. "Shower?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

* * *

She wanted to shower together but Dean simply could not handle her again. She refused to shower separately, saying it was pointless to waste that much water. He tried to not touch her but she pressed herself against him until he slid a hand between her legs and got her off yet again. If this kept up, he worried he might end up a broken man.

They dried off and Dean kissed her forehead before admitting he needed to get some sleep. Christa smiled shyly and apologized for wearing him out. "All in a day's work, sweetheart," he smirked back and retreated to his room.

He locked his door, just in case.

* * *

Sam pulled into the garage, absolutely beat. It was almost three in the morning and he had his ass handed to him working alone. Dean hadn't replied to his text asking about Christa until late in the evening, and all he had sent was a winking smiley face.

As he climbed out of the car, Sam stretched and yawned, ready to get some sleep.

He entered the bunker and heard the TV on; curious if Dean was still up, he went into the living room and set his bag down. Christa was curled up asleep on the couch in an oversized shirt and underwear. He gently scooped her up and carried her to her room where he tucked her into bed. She moaned softly when he kissed her forehead and then she started snoring lightly.

Sam closed her door behind him and went to pass out in his own bed.

A weird sound pulled Sam from a deep sleep. He slowly reached under his pillow for his gun without opening his eyes.

"Down boy," Christa whispered from near the foot of the bed. Sam felt her climb onto his bed behind him and relaxed, pushing the gun back under his pillow.

"What's up, Chris?" He asked, yawning.

"I can't sleep," she whispered, sliding an arm around him and pressing her body against his back. She nuzzled the back of his neck and her hand slowly moved down to his hip. Sam's eyes opened when she bit his shoulder and pushed her fingertips into the waistband of his boxers.

He cleared his throat and gently pulled her hand back out of his shorts, "What time is it?"

"Six-fifteen," her fingertips moved back down to his waistband and she licked his neck.

"Chris," Sam moaned, "I'm super tired." He hated what he was going to say next but said it anyway. "Can't you go see Dean?"

She giggled softly and shook her head, despite him not being able to see her. "He locked his door. I think I might have broken him, Sammy. God, it was good, though." He felt her shiver behind him and took a deep, steadying breath.

"Can you give me another hour of sleep? Please?" He tried, though his body was already waking up to her touch.

"It's starting to hurt, Sam," Christa whispered. "Please?" Her fingertips grazed over the head of his hardening length and he sighed, shoving the rest of the sleep out of his system.

"Okay, but don't wake me up again before ten. Whatever you need between now and then, you have to get from Dean." Sam still found it weird he was encouraging her to fuck his brother, repeatedly, but he was honestly glad he wasn't alone in helping her through this absolute bizarre situation. He rolled over to face her and she hungrily kissed him, pulling a groan from deep within his chest. He grabbed her hip, realizing she was naked and the sound he'd heard was her undressing after entering his room. Her hands raked through his hair and Sam rolled on top of her.

He didn't bother covering her mouth or muffling her screams as she came once, twice, three times. Sam had no room to feel bad about possibly waking Dean up since he'd locked his door for the night. She was panting and begging him to fuck her harder. Though he didn't want to hurt her, he obliged. He knew the counter-potion was wearing off little by little because his senses began to awaken just a bit more and he remembered what Maggie had said. Sam groaned loudly, not wanting this to end, but knowing the potential consequences far outweighed the pleasure he knew he could get if he just ignored his conscience. He leaned back on his shins, holding her hips to him as he pounded into her, grunting.

"Oh God! Sam!" Christa cried as she came yet again. Sam pulled out of her and came hard, hoping it wasn't too late to take another dose. He braced himself above her as he caught his breath and she kissed his face lightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

Sam nodded and caught her lips with his before he rolled off of her. Blindly, he found his boxers and wiped himself off before tossing them to the floor.

"Go back to bed, Chris," He said nicely, though he was very serious. "I'll see you after ten."

As soon as she left, he took another drop of the antidote and left the vial on the desk by the door for Dean. He laid back down and was fast asleep again within minutes.

* * *

A soft knocking on Dean's door pulled him out of a light sleep. Dean rubbed his eyes and yawned, then checked the time. It was after eight. "What?"

"Breakfast is ready," Christa's voice came through his door. Dean thought it was weird that she had made breakfast because he could have sworn he heard Sam come home last night. He definitely heard Christa screaming at one point and was conflicted about having locked his door until he heard Sam.

"Yeah, okay." He yawned again, sitting up. "Be out in a few minutes."

Christa quietly retreated to the kitchen and sat at the table. She had made from-scratch pancakes, bacon, and eggs because she kind of felt bad about wearing the guys out. Fresh coffee was poured for Dean, as well – black, just like he liked it. Several minutes passed and Christa wasn't sure if Dean was going to come out or not. She nibbled at a pancake and felt even worse about the fact he was probably wary of her. She checked the time and the clock read 0840. Oh well, she thought, might as well enjoy it.

She was on her second cake when Dean shuffled in, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. She smiled brightly up at him as he looked at the spread, impressed. He took a long swallow of coffee to get the bitter taste of antidote out of his mouth.

"How you doin, champ?" He piled a mountain of pancakes in front of him and topped it off with several pieces of bacon before drenching it all with syrup.

Christa shrugged and nodded, "I'm fine right now… are you…?"

Dean smiled, shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth. "Right as rain," he said with his mouth full.

Christa relaxed a little bit, hoping she hadn't actually broken him. When they were done eating, she put some pancakes and bacon aside for Sam and washed the dishes while Dean dried. She noticed she was reacting to his proximity much less violently than yesterday and hoped – despite the amazing sex she'd been having – this condition was short-lived.


	9. Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

"Hey, Maggie, it's Sam."

"Yes, I know. Good morning and how's our girl?"

"She's uh, she's okay. I think we're through the worst of it. I had to leave for awhile yesterday and Dean stayed with her." He let the unspoken words speak for themselves. "They both seem to be doing just fine."

"That's good to hear. I'm still available if you need to bring her here. Just don't forget to use the antidote until you're absolutely sure it's out of her system."

"Right. Uh, about that. How will I know, exactly?"

Maggie chuckled on the other end of the phone. "You mean what if she still wants to jump your bones when it's gone? Then she's a lucky girl if you let her."

Sam blushed deeply and cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. Okay, thanks Maggie. We'll just keep taking it one day at a time."

"Stay hydrated – all of you," Maggie chuckled again and hung up after wishing him luck.

"Hey Sammy, can we talk for a minute?" Dean jerked his head as Sam was about to sit down to eat the leftover breakfast.

"Seriously, Dean? I'm starving."

"I'll leave you two alone," Christa announced happily and skipped out of the room.

Dean watched her go, still finding it absurdly weird how amenable and nice she was capable of being. He sat down across from Sam and let him get a few bites of breakfast before clearing his throat.

Sam rolled his eyes and swallowed, setting his fork down. "What?"

"Dude, yesterday… I didn't think she'd ever stop. I hate to say this, but I can't handle it, man. How much longer does she have?" His voice had lowered and he leaned in close, embarrassed he was admitting to not being able to keep up with her.

Sam shrugged, "Yeah well at least she didn't wake you up at six this morning for another round." He sighed, tiredly. "I don't know how much longer. Maggie didn't say. She just said to keep an eye on her. Maybe we can find something to help expedite the process, a spell or something."

Dean sat back and weighed his options. "Yeah, alright. Let's get down to business. I don't know if I have it in me today." Sam made a face and Dean winked at him. "See you in the library, little brother."

Sam strolled in, surprised to actually see Dean with his nose in a book.

"Anything?" Sam asked, sitting down next to him and grabbing another volume.

Dean shook his head. "This is just what she was perusing the other day before I um… interrupted. Doesn't seem like the Men of Letters were too keen on documenting love spells or potions," Dean said, scratching his head.

Sam sighed and skimmed page after page, looking for anything that could help.

They went through five volumes each and Dean was at the card catalogue looking for more when Christa popped her head in to the library.

"Hey guys… something I can help with?"

"No," they both said at the same time.

Christa's eyes widened and she backed up a little, almost offended at how quickly they answered. "Okay, jeeze."

Sam looked at her apologetically. "Sorry, Chris. It's just more likely to get done if you're… not around. We need to focus."

She nodded, understanding, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, sorry, guys." She folded her arm over her chest and sighed.

"Call if you need anything, okay?" Sam said with sincerity in his voice.

Christa nodded again and retreated out of the library. She figured she had another few hours before the burn in her belly got unbearable.

"Dean. Out." Sam said through a clenched jaw.

Christa was straddling his lap, her lips and tongue teasing his ear and neck. One hand was cupping the crotch of his jeans and the other was lightly tugging his hair. She whimpered petulantly. "What if he stayed?"

"Absolutely not," Sam gasped as Christa gently squeezed his hardening dick.

"Already gone," Dean said, getting up and grabbing several books to take with him. He was inwardly relieved she had picked Sam, though still envious her lips weren't on his skin.

Christa's lips landed on Sam's and he kissed her deeply as she slid a hand into his jeans. Sam moaned into her mouth.

Christa shoved her hips back at him and Sam bit back a deep growl. She was bent over the library table he'd been working at and he was thrusting into her from behind. Books were shoved off to the floor in the process. Her moans punctuated her breaths and Sam was sure Dean could hear her from where ever he'd gone unless he had on noise-canceling headphones. "Christa," he gasped, holding tightly to her hips, unable to delay his own orgasm any longer.

"Come for me," Christa panted. Sam obliged, pulling out of her as he came. She moaned his name as she came with him.

Dean had given up on books and he was on his laptop in the War Room, furiously searching for answers. Castiel had appeared just as Christa screamed Sam's name and he looked utterly shocked while Dean paid no mind to it.

"Dean, is everything okay?"

Dean nodded, briefly glancing at the Angel. "Yeah, why?"

Castiel pursed his lips, a frown knitting his brow together. "Well, it seems as though Christa Edelwood is in some sort of pain?" He paused and then cleared his throat. "Nevermind. It appears as though she is in the throes of ecstasy with your brother."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Did you need something, Cas?"

"No, I… I was just making sure everyone was okay. Have you found a cure for her condition?"

"Not yet, we're working on it."

Christa screamed again and Castiel's face turned bright pink. "I should leave, then, as this vessel is still susceptible to her."

Before Dean could respond, Castiel was gone. He grunted and got back to research, finding it hard to focus after hearing her moans and screams.

Sam padded in to the kitchen as Dean was opening a beer. His hair was wet and he was pushing it out of his face. Dean raised an eyebrow as he gulped down his beer.

"Beer, Dean? It's barely two in the afternoon."

Dean just stared at him, chugging his beer down in several gulps. He finished with an "aaah" and wiped his mouth. "I had to listen to that so yeah, it's beer o'clock." Dean shuddered and shook his head as if to clear the mental image.

A large sigh came from Sam. "Did you find anything?"

"Not yet, but I think I'm close. I'm waiting to hear from a witch I found on a love potion forum."

Now it was Sam's turn to look shocked. "You're actually talking to a witch?"

Green eyes narrowed and gave Sam a side-eye to rival all other side-eyes. "Yeah, I'm talking to a fucking witch. Come on. You don't think Christa doesn't want her life back? I'm sure it feels good and everything, when it's not causing her actual pain, but we have things to do. You got your ass handed to you alone on that hunt yesterday, Sammy. We need to get back to normal."

Sam laughed ruefully and poured himself a glass of water. "Whatever normal is," he agreed.

Dean left an hour later to meet with the witch. He returned a couple hours after that, a triumphant look on his face. He waved a piece of paper victoriously as he jogged down the steps and into the library. "Look what I got!"

Sam got up, relief flooding his face. "Dean, that's awesome. What do we need?"

Dean looked around, "Well, first we need Christa. Where is she?"

Sam shrugged as he exchanged a glance with Dean. They hurried out of the library.

Sam found Christa in the shower, exhausted and weak. He wrapped her in a towel and shut off the water. "Chris! What happened? Chris?" He gently tapped her face and she moaned, coming to.

"Sammy?"

"Chris! Jesus what did you do?"

"I had to… it hurt so much. I couldn't stop," she mumbled.

"Why didn't you come get me?" Sam demanded, cradling her on his lap as he knelt on the wet floor. Her blue eyes fluttered open and he saw she'd been crying again. He felt a shock of guilt as he realized he hadn't even heard her; he'd completely lost track of time in the library while Dean was out. He hugged her to him and stood up with some effort.

"How long was she in there? Dammit, Sam!" Dean swore, wiping his mouth as Sam gently set Christa down in a chair in the library.

She immediately curled into a ball and closed her eyes again.

"Fuck, Dean, I'm sorry, okay! I didn't… I lost track of time. I never even heard her."

"Let's just fix this," Dean growled. "Fuck!" He stormed off to get the supplies they needed from the kitchen and the lab.

Sam sat down and put his head in his hands. He felt responsible for the state Christa was in. He should have kept a closer eye on her. She whimpered softly and his head snapped up; he relaxed as he realized she was just sleeping.

Dean returned with his arms full of what they needed – herbs, candles, chalk, purified water, a mortar and pestle, and a few charms. "Here, help me with this. We need to set up an altar and place her in the middle of it."

They got to work and had it set up according to directions within minutes. Sam retrieved Christa, adjusting her towel to cover her again, and set her down gently in the middle of everything. Dean started lighting candles in the order specified and Sam picked up the paper to begin the incantation while he placed the charms.

After the spell was cast, Dean carried Christa back to her room and tucked her into bed. Sam made sure her vitals were normal before he left her side.

They didn't see her again until the next morning. Sluggishly, she walked into the kitchen, looking like she had one of Dean's bender-level hangovers. Sam looked up from plating omelets and flashed a small grin. "Hey, Chris. Welcome back to the land of the living."

She grunted in response and sat down heavily at the table, wincing slightly as she brought a full coffee mug to her lips and drank deeply from it.

Dean grinned, trying to bring some levity to the room. "Wow, she looks like she had a Me Night."

Sam shot him a stern look and Dean rolled his eyes, sipping his coffee. The younger Winchester brought breakfast over and they ate in silence, as usual.

After breakfast, Christa shuffled right back to her room and fell back asleep. She slept most of the day and well into the evening when Sam finally went to wake her up for dinner.

"Burger," Christa moaned into her pillow, still feeling like she was hit by a semi-truck.

"Alright, I'll send Dean for burgers," Sam said and rubbed her back lightly. "Anything I can get you in the meantime?"

"Water," she replied into her pillow, making no effort to move.

Sam went to get her a large glass of water and was happy to see she'd rolled onto her back while he was gone. "There she is," he said, sitting down and handing her the glass.

Christa downed half of it, hiccupped, and thanked him. "Thanks, Sammy. Sorry. I feel like shit, dude."

"It's the detox. The potion someone slipped you was supposed to do more harm than good and I'd say it succeeded. You probably won't feel one hundred per cent for another day."

Christa sighed and nodded, "God my head is pounding." Sam placed some aspirin in her hand and she managed a grin, then took it and finished the water. "You're the best."

"I'll go make some coffee and send Dean out for food. See you in a few minutes." He automatically kissed the top of her head and then left.

Dean dropped the bag of greasy food onto the table and hollered, "Food!" Sam came in from the living room followed by Christa. Dean noticed his hair was mussed and Christa was trying to hide a smirk. He lifted an eyebrow as he looked between them and pulled everyone's food out. "Burger, bacon burger, chicken," he made a face and tossed the chicken sandwich at Sam's place at the table.

"Hey man, watch the goods," Sam said and got three beers from the fridge.

Christa sat down in her usual spot and Dean winked at her. "Feelin' better, sweetheart?"

"Shut it, Winchester." She stuck her tongue out at him. Dean laughed and sat down next to her.

"Glad to have you back," he said and ruffled her hair.

"Knock it off! Dean!" Christa batted his hand away and pouted. "Sam make him stop!"

"How about you kids both settle down and eat this wonderful meal that Dean procured for us?" Sam used his fake-stern voice and everyone started laughing. Christa stole fries from both brothers and it started a food-stealing war that lightened the mood further.

When they finished, Christa cleaned up the wrappers and boxes while Dean poured everyone whisky. The kitchen grew quiet and Christa could tell neither one of the guys wanted to be the first to break the silence on the elephant in the room.

"So, uh, we're all cool?" She finally asked.

Sam and Dean looked surprised and glanced at each other, then nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, sure. It was an interesting few days, but yeah, we're good. Right, Dean?"

Dean nodded and sipped his whisky, "Yeah we're all good. Let's just maybe… not ever do this again? At least not all under the same roof."

Christa, feeling embarrassed, downed her glass of whisky in one gulp. They sat in silence for another moment before she spoke up again. "I'm… thanks for your help, guys. I honestly thought I was dying a few times. I know it's weird for you and kinda gross, but you probably saved my life. We don't have to mention this ever again, k?"

The guys shrugged again, pointedly not looking at each other.


	10. Stiff Upper Lip

A/N - last chapter is hella short! Not sure if I want to continue posting this series on here because uploading fic isn't exactly user-friendly. Anyway! Thanks for reading.

* * *

Christa finished packing her bags, ready to get back on the road. She felt a presence darken her doorway and without turning, acknowledged him. "What's up, Sam?"

"Just seeing if you needed anything," he replied, stepping into her room. "Can I help with your bags?"

"Sure," she said, turning to hand him her backpack, smiling widely. "Thanks."

Sam gazed down at her, his hazel eyes searching her blue ones for an answer to a question he had yet to ask. Christa thought she saw a bit of sadness in his eyes and was about to reach up to hug him when he leaned down and wrapped his arms around her.

"Hey, Sammy, are you okay?" She pulled away after a moment, concern knitted on her brow.

Sam nodded and swallowed. He looked like he was going to say something so Christa waited. When he didn't speak up, she smiled at him again and went to step by him. He blocked her path and leaned down, kissing her deeply.

Christa sighed, returning his kiss. It felt nice to not feel like she was going to burn to death from the inside out. They kissed for several minutes before Sam finally pulled back, leaving her wanting more. "Sam," she whispered, eyes wide.

He forced a smile and kissed her forehead. "Let's get you packed up."

"Sam," she said again, this time with more force in her voice.

"Hm?" He still had a smile plastered on his face.

"I'll miss you, too," Christa replied. She paused and then said, "I love you. You know that, right? Everything that's happened over the last several days… it meant something to me."

Sam glanced away and Christa noticed his smile became softer, more sincere. "I love you, too, Chris. Keep in touch, okay? Let me know if you need anything."

"Oh, I will," she wiggled her eyebrows at him and he laughed; they walked down the hall together in comfortable silence, her hand in his.

"So? See ya never?" Dean grinned, using Christa's own line on her.

She playfully punched him in the shoulder, grinning back at him. "You love me, Winchester."

"Look who's talking," he teased, wrapping her in a hug. Christa leaned into it, wrapping her arms around him and enjoying how he felt against her for several moments. "Take care, sweetheart. Call if you need us."

Christa stepped out of his arms and into Sam's. Sam lifted her up as she hooked her arms around his shoulders and she giggled. She was about to hop out of his arms when he kissed her again. Christa returned the kiss, trying not to care that Dean was two feet away. She let Sam break the kiss and smirked as Dean started obnoxiously clearing his throat. "Bye, Sammy," she whispered against his lips. He gently set her down and opened the car door for her.

She slid into the driver's seat of Sam's old beater, adjusted it for her height, and Sam closed the door, leaning into the window. "See you soon?"

Christa smiled widely and leaned over to place a quick kiss on his lips. "Soon," she agreed.

Sam stood up and he and Dean waved as she backed the old Ford out of the garage and headed back to the open road.

"Wellp. That was a really weird week I never want to think about. Well, maybe just once," Dean said, clapping Sam on the back as he turned to go back inside.

Sam rubbed his neck and closed the garage, following Dean down the stairs.


End file.
